


Muy Cómico

by Zavijah



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Ages are Non-Canon, Alcohol, Anal Sex, Angst, Beta'd, Blow Jobs, Brief Jack/Vincent, Depression, Domestic Violence, Drugs, First Time, Highschool AU, Homophobia, M/M, Now With Less Typos, Panic Attacks, Phone Sex, Pining, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts, Young Love, coming out story, emotional journey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-02-19 07:30:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 108,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22840705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zavijah/pseuds/Zavijah
Summary: Jack, farm boy and junior in high school, thinks he has his life under control. At least until he's forced into a strained alliance with long time nemesis, Gabriel Reyes. It changes everything. Jack struggles to figure out what he wants out of life, but finds it hard to break free from the cage he’s built around himself.
Relationships: Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison
Comments: 658
Kudos: 378





	1. Broken - lovelytheband

**:::**  
_Life is not a love song that we like  
We're all broken pieces floating by_  
**:::**

“Morrison.”

Ana Amari, Principal of Gibraltar High, was not impressed. She eyed the tall, blonde junior with a black eye before flicking the same flat look on the equally tall, hispanic senior with bloody tissues protruding from both nostrils. They sat, as far apart as possible, in the two chairs opposite of hers; their matching glares a stark juxtaposition to the dancing hippo painting hanging on the wall behind them.

“Reyes.”

Before morning classes had begun — before Ana even had a chance to sit down and enjoy her coffee — her secretary had ushered in the two boys. Apparently the Biology teacher, Mr. Winston, happened upon the two boys in the hall, locked in a grapple and being egged on by their peers. He had pried them apart and now they sat in her office, arms crossed, silent and sullen.

She had let them stew, hoping time would cool their heads and lead to a more productive conversation. It also gave her time to push down the urge to twist their ears until they cried uncle. Every year, without fail, the two boys tested the limits of her patience. Ana thought she could weather through the last several months until Gabriel’s graduation, but the two rivaling teens had other ideas.

“This is the third time you’ve been sent to my office and the school year has only just begun. This _cannot_ continue—” for her peace of mind alone. “I should expel you both.”

She cut off their protests with a sharp raise of her hand. "If you don’t think that is fair, then explain to me what happened.”

“Morrison started it,” Gabriel said.

“I did not.” Jack turned in his seat to glare. “You were picking on that sophomore.”

“Which was none of your damn business.”

Jack’s knuckles whitened where they tightened over the armrest. “Like hell it wasn’t.”

“Boys,” Ana warned with a stern glance at each of them before focusing on Gabriel. “Do you want to tell me about the incident with the sophomore?”

Gabriel’s smile was more of a sneer. “I didn’t touch the guy.”

“Only because I stopped you,” Jack added.

“You don’t know a damn thing about what I was going to do.”

“I know exactly—”

Ana cleared her throat and the boys sunk in their seats and shifted their ire to opposite walls. She watched them for a time, making sure they wouldn’t resume snarling and snapping at each other.

Dealing with such a testosterone fueled quarrel so early in the morning made Ana miss working at the elementary schools. The various knick-knacks and drawings lining her desk attested to how much more rewarding it was to work with the younger children. She shuddered to think of her young, sweet Fareeha turning into such a hormonal teenager.

“You two have had it out for each other since grade school. I wish I could tell you to make sure it doesn’t happen again and send you on your way, but I know you’ll end up here — _again_ — and I will have no choice but to expel you.”

She sharpened a look on Gabriel. “If I do, you’ll lose that scholarship I know you’ve been working hard to keep.”

Letting the reality of the situation sink in, Ana turned her attention to the junior. “And Jack, your mother wouldn’t stop crying the last time I called her into my office. Don’t break her heart and don’t let this tarnish your future. You’re a good student and should be focusing on your options for college.”

Ana rallied her defenses behind a sip of lukewarm coffee. She wanted to help them succeed, but she very much doubted they would see it from her point of view. She tapped a single, contemplative finger against her mug.

“I want to try something different. You two need to figure out how to get along so I am making you co-captains of a Spartan team.”

“Spartan team?” Jack asked.

Taking the pamphlets from her drawer, she handed them over. “This summer we, along with schools in the surrounding districts, arranged to have a teen-friendly Spartan race. You two will hold tryouts, assemble a team, do practices, and compete in June.”

“What?” Gabriel didn’t even glance at the pamphlet. “I don’t have time for this.”

“You will make time and you will do it on your _own_ time.”

“You can’t!”

“Do I need to remind you that this is your last chance?”

Given the way Gabriel’s mouth snapped shut, the consequences were glaringly obvious. Again Ana tapped at her mug while glancing between the boys. It was a gamble, and the odds of success were slim to none, but she saw no other option. Either they came to terms, or she’d be forced to dole out the appropriate punishment.

Ana smiled, thin and stern. “Put your competitiveness to use and win us a trophy.”

* * *

“This is bullshit,” Gabriel said once they were in the hall. “She can’t do this.”

Jack spared him a glance. “Well, she is.”

Gabriel plucked the tissues from his nose, examined the blood, and visibly seethed at Jack.

Unphased, Jack suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. It wasn’t their first altercation and, as history fondly repeated itself, it wouldn't be their last. Their rivalry, as Ana called it — Jack called it Gabriel being a dick — had worsened over the years. What started with name calling in grade school had slowly evolved to shoving and, just that morning, to an exchange of fists. In the rare moments in between disagreements they could function as almost-friends, but it never lasted.

The swelling around Jack’s eye made it hard to blink. He tenderly prodded at the sore, bruising skin while dreading how he would explain the tell-tale injury to his parents. Jack might have been more angry about it if Gabriel hadn’t looked a strange mix of surprised and apologetic after landing the first hit. Jack had registered the expression a split second before his fist connected with Gabriel's nose.

He didn’t regret it. Not the punch. What he regretted was the unforeseen punishment for his actions. Being sent home for fighting was one thing, being forced into an unstable alliance for the rest of the school year was quite another.

A sinking ship if there ever was one.

Jack dug out his phone while mumbling, “We should probably exchange numbers.”

Gabriel's bloodied nostrils flared. He looked more interested in setting fire to both Jack and the pamphlet rather than giving out his number. In the end, perhaps deciding attempted homicide wasn’t worth the trouble, he pulled out his phone and they traded contact info. Jack sent a quick ‘ _test_ ’ to the number. The resulting _ding_ from Gabriel’s phone settled some of Jack’s doubts.

The bell rang, signaling the end of first period.

Gabriel stalked away without a backward glance while Jack remained rooted, glowering, until Angela bumped against his side. Her arm hooked with his as she tugged him toward their lockers.

“Did I just see you talking to Gabriel Reyes?”

“Not really.” Jack massaged at his temple. “I was just getting his number.”

Angela’s brows disappeared behind her pale bangs. As his best friend, she was well versed in his on-going dispute with Gabriel. Even though he and Gabriel were in different grades, their paths often crossed, usually at the most inopportune times.

Catching sight of Angela’s peculiar expression, Jack sighed, “Principal Amari is making us work on a project together, some stupid team building exercise thing. We either do it or she expels us.”

“Really?”

In lieu of an explanation, Jack handed over the pamphlet as they arrived at his locker. She read through it as he gathered his books.

“Oh this looks fun.”

Jack rolled his eyes, because if it had anything to do with Gabriel — the cocky captain of the hockey team — it would be anything _but_ fun.

“When are tryouts?”

“You’re going to join?”

“Heck yeah.” She grinned and handed back the pamphlet. “You should make flyers. I’m sure a ton of people will want to try out.”

The full reality of the situation hit Jack with the force of a wrecking ball. His English book fell from his hand and dropped back into his locker with a resounding thunk. For the rest of the year he would be responsible for a team of students.

 _With Gabriel_.

His stomach lurched toward his toes. How the hell was he going to manage any of that? He’d never been captain of _anything_. Sure, he ran with the cross country team, but he wasn’t a captain. Moreover, his father disapproved of after school activities because it took time away from the work needing done on the farm. It had been a grueling fight just to be allowed to join the track team. Adding a second time consuming activity to the mix would, least to say, not go over well.

Sinking with dismay, Jack retrieved his phone. “I guess I should try and coordinate a time with him…”

Angela offered him a sad smile. “Good luck, Jack.”

His mind went blank as he stared at the screen. His thumb hovered over the small letters. He wasn’t afraid of Gabriel’s response. No, he fully expected Gabriel to be difficult. Instead he struggled over how to craft a text that could possibly grant him an amicable outcome.

`**Jack:** When are you free to do tryouts?`

Straight to the point felt like the best route.

Jack slid the phone back into his pocket, gathered his books, and headed to class. For the next forty minutes his phone burned like an ember against his thigh. He snuck peeks at it all through second period. No response. In between class he resorted to holding it, expecting it to buzz while he changed out his books. But nothing happened. After a rather dull third period, Jack took a detour from his usual route.

The senior lockers were located on the first floor along with the main office. Jack lingered by the door of the latter and picked out Gabriel’s short, chestnut hair with the buzzed undercut. Gabriel was leaning against the lockers, bracketed by the hockey team defensemen, Akande and Mauga.

Jack hesitated. He wasn't on good terms with the hockey team and confronting Gabriel in front of them would only make things worse. Irritated, Jack shifted his grip on his books and waited for the right opportunity to snag Gabriel’s attention.

When Gabriel gaze found him, a silky ribbon of hope spun around Jack’s chest. But then Gabriel smirked, rolled his eyes, and looked away. The hope hardened into razor wire.

_Prick _.__

__Jack stalked off to class, his face hot with frustration. The anger followed Jack into lunch where Angela pulled him out of his brooding with a bony elbow to his ribs._ _

__“Penny for your thoughts?”_ _

__“I—” Jack tore his gaze away from where the hockey team sat together for lunch. “Nothing.”_ _

__Even if the acclaimed nothing drove him to pull his phone out and re-send his earlier text. As he watched, heel bouncing against the cafeteria floor, Gabriel checked the message and set his phone aside without replying._ _

___Well_ , Jack thought bitterly, _that settles it.__ _

__He shoved his phone away and ate; his mood as unpleasant as the beef and noodle goop on his tray._ _

__By last period, Jack accepted his fate and asked to be excused from class. He reserved the gymnasium for tryouts that weekend then slipped into the computer lab to throw together a design for an invitation flyer. When classes ended, Jack stood guard over whirling printer, wholly expecting a teacher to question him about his unsanctioned use of paper._ _

__Genji, the foreign exchange student staying with his family out at the farm, joined him. The green haired sophomore sat on the table next to the printer, folding the spare sheets of paper while waiting for a ride home._ _

__It had taken a great deal of convincing before his parents agreed to house an exchange student. Jack had done it with hopes of helping his mother move past Ben’s death. Ben, his younger brother, had died years ago but his room had remained the same. Toys, story books, a cartoon-themed duvet. Prior to Genji's arrival, Jack had packed it all into boxes while his mother cried._ _

__“Is Angela joining?” Genji asked._ _

__Jack held back a sigh. “She is.”_ _

__“Then I will too.”_ _

__Jack didn’t want to encourage Genji to pursue his best friend — Angela was far too career minded to spare Genji anything more than a polite smile — but Jack did want reliable people on the team. Especially since Gabriel —_ _

__He shelved the peevish thought as the printer spat out another flyer._ _

__“I think you’ll end up leaving before the competition,” Jack said._ _

__Genji lazily shrugged and continued folding the paper. “I might be able to convince my family to let me stay over the summer, even if my brother won’t like it.”_ _

__Over the weeks, Jack learned that if Hanzo — Genji’s older brother — disapproved of something, then Genji was keen to do it. They spoke over Skype twice a week and, while Jack didn’t understand Japanese, their conversations never struck him as a pleasant exchange. It had been outright explosive when, during his first week stateside, Genji had dyed his hair a startling shade of green._ _

__“Hey!”_ _

__Both Genji and Jack looked up as Angela walked into the lab. Genji slid off the table and presented her with his freshly folded origami flower. She smiled while accepting the gift, but made straight for the stack of printed flyers._ _

__“Great! You got in touch with Gabriel?”_ _

__Disinclined to talk about it, because it would just piss him off, Jack shrugged._ _

__Angela groaned with exasperation, “ _Jack_.”_ _

__“Angie, don’t start.”_ _

__“You can’t let him get away with being a prick.”_ _

__“I’m not — they’re just _flyers_.”_ _

__“Great.” She lifted the stack of papers and set them on her arm. “You did your part, now it’s his turn.”_ _

__“Wait—” but she was already out the door._ _

__Jack wouldn’t call her meddlesome, but her driven nature, paired with her desire to help people, could be very irritating. He grumbled and stalked after her with Genji at his heels. Her steps quickened to stay just out of his reach, leading them down the school hallway and out the front doors. The autumn sky still held remnants of the summer, bright with sunshine and warm enough to not require a jacket. A beautiful day, if not for the fact that Angela was intent on darkening it by heading straight for the parking lot._ _

__No, was she really going to—_ _

__She was._ _

__Ahead of them, circled around Akande’s expensive Benz, stood the majority of the hockey team with their various fans. Angela marched toward the pack of wolves, fearless of their leers. She went straight to Gabriel and shoved the flyers against his chest._ _

__“Jack made these for you,” she said with a smile._ _

__Gabriel’s brow rose as he regarded the papers._ _

__As Jack edged in after Angela, the team squared up. Word traveled fast around school and their grinning faces told him they knew the cause behind the bruise circling his eye. A silent offer hung in the air. Jack could have a matching pair if he so much as pushed at one of them._ _

__Gabriel took the papers and immediately foisted them off on his nearest friend, Jesse. “That day doesn’t work for me.”_ _

__The tension threading through the group cinched tighter, closing like a vice around Jack’s chest. He slid his hands into his pockets and kept his shoulders loose._ _

__“Then you should have answered my text," Jack said._ _

__“Huh.” Gabriel tilted his head back with feigned thoughtfulness. “Don’t think I got any texts.”_ _

__The bruising was harder to pick out against Gabriel’s brown skin, but the way he canted his head allowed the afternoon sun to highlight the dark blots. A sliver of satisfaction pierced Jack’s thoughts. No, he certainly did not regret punching Gabriel. In fact, he wanted to do it again. His fingers curled into his palms, hidden away in his pockets._ _

__Jack’s jaw clenched as he tried, and failed, to speak in a neutral tone, “You really want to have it out right here?”_ _

__The energy of the group shifted like sharks stirring at the taste of blood in the water. Gabriel studied him as the rest of his team closed the circle. Mauga's big face split into a hungry leer as he teetered on the cusp of chanting ‘ _Fight! Fight! Fight!_ ’._ _

__A quick glance toward Angela and Genji showed they had been eased out of harm’s way by Jesse asking about the stack of flyers. Jesse briefly met Jack’s eyes and tapped the brim of his cowboy hat in a show of reassurance._ _

__Jack could live with that. Jesse, other than being a fellow junior, had worked out at the Morrison farm over the last two summers and, whenever he wasn’t joined at the hip to Gabriel, was enjoyable company. More than a couple cigarettes had passed between them as they sat together on the tailgate of Jack’s truck, unwinding from a hard day’s work._ _

__Not quite a friend, but in that moment Jesse was, at the least, an ally._ _

__Gabriel stepped forward and knocked his shoulder into Jack’s as he passed, clearly expecting him to follow. Jack hesitated. He swept a look over the disappointed faces of the hockey team, lingering on Akande who scrutinized him, curiously, before peering after Gabriel._ _

__After one last look toward Angela and Genji, Jack followed after Gabriel._ _

__They moved several cars away, enough to be out of ear shot but still within glaring distance. Gabriel leaned against the door of an old, white Mazda Jack had seen him drive around town. They both glanced toward the hockey team, aware of their audience. Jack kept his hands into his pockets while Gabriel crossed his arms high on his chest._ _

__“You have to help with this,” Jack said._ _

__“I don’t _have_ to do anything.”_ _

__“You’re the one with a scholarship riding on this, not me.”_ _

__The words had the desired effect of shutting Gabriel’s mouth. His fingers flexed against the sleeves of his dark hoodie and his eyes flashed with anger. Jack stepped closer, pushing the tension because he knew he could get away with it and he was tired of dealing with Gabriel's shit. “And if you keep ghosting me, I’ll go to Principal Amari.”_ _

__Gabriel growled through a clenched jaw, “I told you that day doesn’t work for me.”_ _

__“That’s your problem, Reyes.”_ _

__In the natural light, Gabriel’s eyes were the color of dark honey. A rich, deep amber with subtle hints of hazeling around the pupil. His brown skin and dark chestnut hair made them all the more golden. Jack’s gaze strayed, following the dark stubble lining Gabriel’s jawline. Freshly shaved; the lingering scent of after shave reached Jack’s nose. Gabriel’s lower lip jutted, every so slightly, giving his lips a pursed quality, and—_ _

__Jack took a step back, then another. He cast his gaze out over the parking lot and shrugged. “I already got permission to use the gym on Saturday. Show up or don’t, I don’t care.”_ _

__One way or another, Jack just wanted to know if Gabriel intended to help. If not, then Jack wanted to spend the rest of the year pretending Gabriel Reyes didn’t exist. His experience as a captain would have been useful, but Jack would manage the Spartan team on his own._ _

__Jack paused before walking off. “Put up the damn flyers.”_ _

  


**:::**  
_Life is not a love song we can try  
to fix our broken pieces one at a time_  
**:::**

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A special thanks to Songshell for Beta-ing for me <3


	2. Drumming Song - Florence + The Machine

  
**:::**  
_There's a drumming noise inside my head  
That starts when you're around  
I swear that you could hear it  
It makes such an all mighty sound_   
**:::**

Only a few cars dotted the school parking lot as Jack pulled in the next morning. Three days a week the cross-country team met up before classes to run the track. Jack enjoyed it. It got him out of the house and running always cleared his mind. But not everyone shared in his enthusiasm; from the other side of the truck, Genji loudly yawned and fumbled to unlatch his seatbelt.

A strong wind buffeted the truck windows as Jack parked. Papers skittered across the asphalt. Jack paused, fingers on the ignition, and tracked the twirling paper tumbleweeds. They were everywhere; stuck in the grass and bushes, rolling along the curb and fluttering inside the nook of the school's recessed doors.

Dread sank through Jack's chest like an anchor and landed heavily on his stomach. He toyed with the notion of driving off, leaving the mess for someone else, but Genji was already climbing out of the truck. The old Chevy creaked as Jack reluctantly did the same. He adjusted his backpack and refused to look down when a brisk gust sent papers dancing past his legs. One caught against the front tire. It flapped at him, mocking him with glimpses of the familiar, printed words.

Genji, ignorant of the anger spinning up in Jack, picked up the paper. After reading it, he passed it over, confirming Jack’s suspicions. The papers scuttling along the ground were his tryout flyers. Gabriel must have thrown the whole stack after their confrontation. A knot pulled tight between Jack's shoulders. He clenched his jaw as he dug out his phone and brought up Gabriel’s number.

**Jack:** `Asshole`

**Reyes:** `Good morning to you too`

**Jack:** `What the fuck is your problem?`

**Reyes:** `Whatever it is, it’s your problem rn`

Jack strangled his phone, tightened his grip on his backpack strap, and stormed toward the school. The door banged against the wall as Jack shoved it open. Gabriel had some nerve to—

After rounding the corner, Jack stopped dead in his tracks. The long hallway loomed ahead of him, the linoleum floor spotted with flyers fallen from where others remained taped to each and every locker and classroom door. They were strung up like festive garland, stretching the whole length of the hall and numbering far more than the modest stack Jack had printed yesterday.

The anger faded into irritation as Jack decided that one: Gabriel Reyes was a ridiculous, petty dickhead, and two: it was going to be a long and strenuous school year. Sighing, Jack nudged his shoulder against Genji’s before picking up some of the loose flyers.

Genji didn’t budge. “Isn’t that the janitor’s job?”

“If Principal Amari sees this—” He didn’t even know what she would do at that point. She already held the threat of expulsion over his head and had coerced him into captaining a team he didn’t want. Throwing a week’s detention into the mix felt trivial at that point.

Jack considered the crumpled papers. He didn’t _want_ to clean the mess, but something had to be done. Despite a church-centric upbringing, Jack refused to turn the other cheek to Gabriel's behavior. He never had in the past. But, as Jack glared at the papers in his hands, he didn't see another option. Either he cleaned the mess, or he got in trouble for it.

Jack searched for the nearest bin and, upon finding nothing of the sort, considered throwing the papers in the air and letting them rain down on him in defeat. Inspiration struck him at the last second and he flashed a wild grin at Genji. “Help me, it’ll be worth it.”

Genji remained skeptical until Jack explained how they would stuff every stray flyer into Gabriel’s locker. After that, Genji gleefully gathered the papers. They snickered as they crammed as many flyers as possible through the slits of Gabriel's locker. But, as much as they both wanted to witness Gabriel's reaction, they were already late meeting up with the cross country team. With giddy grins they fled the scene of the crime as more cars began pulling into the parking lot.

All around the track, Jack imagined Gabriel’s shout of surprise as the flyers spilled out of the locker. How the shock would fade to grim annoyance as the mess settled at his feet. Oh, to be a fly on that wall. Jack cheeks hurt from grinning and, after completing two miles and deeming it enough practice, eagerly checked his phone for a response.

A single message awaited him.

**Reyes:** `Very funny, Jackass`

It wasn’t much, but it pleased Jack all the same.

**Jack:** `Not my problem anymore :)`

Jack smiled all through his morning classes, his mind a happy buzz. At lunch, Jack looked across the cafeteria, honing in on where the hockey team sat, intending to shoot a smug look in Gabriel’s direction, but he wasn’t there. Disappointed, Jack sat between Angela and Genji, fork in hand, but his mind elsewhere.

“Do you have a sign up sheet?”

Two girls — both short, dark of hair, but with differing skin tones — stood on the other side of his table. The white skinned girl had earbuds in and her eyes never lifted from where her thumbs frantically worked the controls of a Nintendo Switch. The girl with brown skin wore skull memorabilia and neon purple hair extensions.

It was the latter girl who had spoken and now regarded him with an arched, pierced brow.

Jack glanced at his friends, hoping they had insight into why the two unknown girls were addressing him. Angela continued writing her biology essay while Genji — well, the only time Genji looked up was when the battery on his phone turned red.

Having no convenient out from the conversation, Jack cleared his throat and asked, “Do I have a what?”

The Hispanic girl rolled her eyes. “For the Spartan team.”

“Oh.” Jack straightened up. “I figured I’d just take everyone’s information at tryouts.”

The two girls sat across from him and Jack tensed. The last time he’d been approached by a pair of girls, they had cornered him near the bathrooms and demanded he go out with them, or maybe just one of them, Jack didn’t remember the exact details, only that he’d been able to escape into the boy’s bathroom until they’d given up.

Being friends with girls used to be easy, but ever since 8th grade everyone had become obsessed about who was dating who. After being pressured into going on several different dates and finding the whole experience sorely disappointing, Jack wanted nothing to do with it.

Angela remained his only female friend because they’d been friends since they were little, they went to the same church, and she understood that, given his responsibilities out at the farm, he didn’t have time for a girlfriend. It helped that she had a similar mindset about boyfriends, claiming she’d date after finishing med school.

“But you won’t know how many people will show up,” said girl two.

“And you won’t know how many snacks to bring,” added girl one.

Jack’s blue eyes darted between the two. “I have to bring snacks?”

“Duh,” they said in unison.

He shook his head. “I don’t want people to come just for the food.”

“Well, no one is going to come if there isn’t food,” said hair stripes.

“That’s just basic marketing,” thumbs tagged on.

Accepting the fact that the two girls were not leaving any time soon, Jack began pushing around the cold spaghetti noodles on his lunch tray. A nagging worry of potential failure clawed at his chest as he considered their opinion. He worked hard to keep on top of everything in his life; from his grades at school to his chores at home. Failure wasn’t an option and the mere idea of disappointing his father—

Jack swallowed, cutting off the trail of thought that sought to send his heart racing. It had been hellish enough trying to explain away his black eye. Claiming he’d slipped and hit it on his desk hadn’t gone over well, but since the school hadn’t called about a fight, his father reluctantly accepted the story.

He gestured with his fork at Angela and Genji. “There’s these two — and I guess you two?”

“Sombra.” Stripes flicked her fingers in a lazy wave.

The other girl graced him with the briefest of glances. “Hana.”

“Jesse said he’d try out,” Angela said without lifting her pencil from the cursive swirls of her essay.

“So six.” Jack glanced toward the hockey team. “Seven if we include Gabriel.”

“He works on Saturdays,” Sombra said.

The unexpected information caught Jack’s interest. He studied Sombra’s face with narrowed eyes, wondering what else she might know. “He didn’t tell me that.”

She snorted, ”Yeah, I think he’s still ticked at you for stopping him from pummeling Nguyen.”

Jack’s brow creased with confusion. “Who?”

Again Sombra rolled her eyes. “The dipshit that grabbed my ass on the bus.”

The details came together with a magnetic snap, and Jack’s shoulders slumped. “I take it Nguyen is the sophomore that—”

“Mhm,” Sombra cut in while grinning. “My brother told me all about your ‘heroic’ intervention.”

If Gabriel had bothered to explain himself, things might have played out differently. Well, Jack would have still stopped him, but knowing the truth put the whole fiasco into a different light and brought up new questions. Most people defended their actions, especially when they felt they had a justifiable reason, but for some reason Gabriel preferred to be misunderstood.

Why?

“I didn’t know he—” Jack’s eyes widened as the rest of her words settled in. _Her brother—_ Gabriel was her _brother_.

Jack didn’t know Sombra, but he knew _of_ her through the rumor mill. Last year, when a student had moved away half way through the year, a rumor had spread that he had disappeared after making a move on Gabriel’s sister. There were several variations of the tale, but most of them ended with Gabriel killing the kid and burying him in the woods. A load of bullshit, except for one irrefutable fact: Gabriel was protective of his sister. Having her sitting there was as helpful to Jack’s plight as gasoline being used to douse a fire.

As if on cue, a familiar voice, growling in Spanish, spoke from somewhere behind Jack.

Sombra arched a brow. “Why does it matter?”

As more Spanish grumbled forth, Jack dared a quick peek over his shoulder. A scowling Gabriel stood off to the side, lunch tray in hand, bristling at his sister.

“I’ll sit with who I want, Gabe. Besides,” Sombra said with a smirk, “I’m going to try out.”

Gabriel sneered and dropped the language barrier, “Why?”

“And miss out on the opportunity to spend time with my big brother?”

As Sombra fluttered her eyelashes at her brother, Hana spared them all a knowing grin. The tension eased from Jack’s shoulders. If the two girls weren’t afraid to dish back at Gabriel, Jack welcomed their company. He schooled his own expression into neutrality before twisting around to regard Gabriel. “Is there a reason why she can’t join?”

Gabriel stepped forward, looking for all the world as if he was going to join their table.

Surprised, Jack’s heart fluttered as a surge of adrenaline hit him like a splash of cold water. If Gabriel actually sat with them —

A shout from the hockey team halted Gabriel motions. His expression hardened and he veered away at the last second, parting with them after shooting a final, narrowed look at Jack.

“Your brother has been very difficult,” Angela said while closing her notebook.

Sombra waved the comment aside. “I’ll talk to him.”

Once his heart stumbled back into a more sedate beat, Jack tore his gaze from Gabriel’s departing back. “No one should have to talk to him. He knows what’s at stake.”

“What’s at stake?”

Jack pushed his tray forward, no longer hungry, and folded his arms on the table. His attention continued to flick toward the hockey team, keenly aware of Gabriel watching them. He forced his eyes to settle on Sombra. “We either do this co-captain thing or get expelled.”

“Not detention, or suspension?”

If he really delved into the details, Jack doubted Amari had the authority to make them do anything. Policy said they should have been expelled. Their parents should have been called and threats should have been made about marks on their permanent records. Instead Principal Amari had offered them one last chance to avoid the consequences of their on-going feud. A kindness they didn’t deserve, and one Gabriel seemed intent on refusing.

Jack shook his head at Sombra. “We’re past the whole slap on the wrist scenario.”

“But if he gets expelled—” Her eyes widened. “—and he’s still being an ass about it?”

“Not my problem.”

It continued to not be Jack’s problem until after school when, upon unlocking the door of his Chevy, the flyers he’d stuffed into Gabriel’s locker came pouring out. Genji doubled over laughing while Jack puzzled over how, and when, Gabriel had managed the feat. He tossed his backpack into the mess and pulled out his phone.

**Jack:** `How did you get in my truck?!`

**Reyes:** `That POS? You really need to ask?`

Jack snorted and stared at the reply. His thumbs hovered as he debated the worth of pursuing a conversation. Asking for a friendship with Gabriel seemed too much, but if they could reach neutral ground, maybe the school year could pass by without him wanting to pull out his hair. He scanned the parking lot for Gabriel’s car but didn’t find it.

**Jack:** `You got time to meet up?`

**Reyes:** `Got practice`

**Jack:** `Until when?`

**Reyes:** `Until we’re done`

At least Gabriel was returning the texts; a marked improvement. Jack held onto that small detail as he shoved the flyers aside and started up his truck. Instead of heading out to the farm and the routine of evening chores, Jack took the risk of driving further into town.

Genji noted the change. “Where are we going?”

An underlying nervousness thinned Jack’s smile. “I need to talk to Gabriel.”

“Will Angela be there?”

“No.”

Interest lost, Genji fished his phone out of his pocket to start up a game. Jack chewed over the idea of explaining to Genji that Angela was not interested in a lazy gamer. If, perhaps, Genji showed more ambition for life other than trying to give his older brother an ulcer, she _might_ be more receptive to him.

Jack refrained, deciding he had enough of his own problems without adding someone’s love life to the fray.

It was a five minute drive to the ice rink. Jack cruised through the parking lot until he spotted Gabriel’s white car. The idea of transferring the mess of flyers to Gabriel’s vehicle crossed his mind, but he dismissed it on the grounds of not wanting a police record when he was ultimately caught in the act of breaking into the car.

He parked and headed inside with Genji in tow.

As they passed into the open space of the rink, Jack shivered from the sudden blast of cold air. The last time he'd been in the arena had been during a birthday party in grade school. After a couple minutes on the ice, where he’d spent more time on his ass than on his skates, Jack had declined all future offers of going to the rink. He also didn’t bother going to any of the school games. Other than never having a reason to watch a match, his father preferred any socializing to happen at church.

Jack picked his way through the empty bleachers, feeling like a trespasser. The arena roof loomed above them, amplifying the sounds of the practicing hockey team. Wordless shouts, the scrape of blades, the clack of sticks against the ice.

Gabriel stood near the middle of the rink, wearing a black hoodie over red gym shorts and something that looked suspiciously like tights. Several orange cones were lined up behind him while a young group of students stood facing him

As Jack watched, Gabriel skated through the cones in an easy pattern before he directed the unsteady skaters to do the same.

 _Tryouts_ , Jack thought with a smirk and settled down to enjoy the show.

After a few minutes of watching a couple of the tryouts flounder, Jack’s attention began following Gabriel instead. He was lazily looping around the group, skating forward, then backwards, again and again, without losing momentum.

Fluid. Effortless.

One of the tryouts fell in front of Gabriel, and without a pause, Gabriel step-hopped over him, landed, and skated on. He circled back around, balancing on one blade, and checked on the fallen kid.

The grace was so unexpected. Jack envied it and vied to commit every second of the phenomenon to his memory.

The coach beckoned the tryouts over to the bench and Gabriel left them to it, joining his team for warm-up maneuvers.

Seeing Gabriel so relaxed, at peace while in his element, was a treat. Jack couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Gabriel without a scowl drawing his brows low over his eyes. It brought on thoughts of watching Gabriel play, channeling his aggression into out maneuvering his opponents and driving the puck toward the goal. Gabriel was tenacious. From what Jack heard around school, Gabriel always did well, no matter what the sport. His athleticism was admirable. His body—

Gabriel was in great shape, Jack left it at that, but altering the course of his thought didn’t stop the fluttering in his chest. With cold fingers, Jack slid his phone out of his pocket. A glance at Genji showed him too busy with his own phone to notice. Jack turned away, just in case, and brought up Gabriel’s number.

**Jack:** ` Who knew you were such a ballerina on ice.`

An embarrassed heat crept up Jack’s neck when, down on the ice, Gabriel drew his own phone from his hoodie pocket. His skates scraped the ice as he abruptly stopped and scanned the bleachers until he found where Jack sat with Genji. It was hard to tell, at that distance, what expression Gabriel wore, but Jack’s heart raced on without knowing. His fingers tightened around his phone.

Gabriel shook his head and tapped out a reply.

**Reyes:** `Who knew you were such a stalker`

The heat spread into Jack's cheeks. He did feel like some sort of peeping Tom. Enjoying what he saw made the feeling worse. It made Jack want to attend a game. It didn’t matter which team won, he just wanted to watch Gabriel play.

He felt jittery as he sent another text, keen to keep Gabriel’s attention.

**Jack:** `Are you wearing tights?`

Gabriel laughed, the sound reverberating off the arched rafters and stirring a bloom of warmth in Jack’s chest.

**Reyes:** `Why? Like what you see?`

The coach yelled and Gabriel stashed his phone back into his pocket. He shouted new orders at the tryouts while gesturing at a pile of pucks.

Jack refrained from distracting Gabriel any further and settled for enjoying the show. An hour later, when practice ended, Jack edged toward the rail separating the bleachers from the concrete walkway leading to the lockers.

Gabriel lingered behind his team, taking his time to remove his skates. He tied the laces together and looped them over his neck before shouldering a duffel bag of sticks. The rest of the team filed out ahead of him. Gabriel waited until they were alone before looking up at where Jack leaned over the rail.

“You going to make a habit of this, Morrison?”

“Only if you keep avoiding me, Reyes.”

Gabriel shifted his weight and adjusted the strap of the heavy bag, causing the sticks to clatter. He smiled and his gaze wandered back toward the ice.

Jack’s eyes darted from Gabriel’s gentle smile to the damp curls of hair plastered against his forehead, then down to the silky, black material clinging to the shape of his calves, knees, and disappearing under the loose material of his gym shorts. Jack wondered how tight the material fit around his thighs and—

Jack averted his gaze to where Gabriel’s skates hung over his chest. “We need to work out a practice schedule.”

“We don’t even have a team yet.”

“Better to be prepared.”

“Fuckin’ boyscout.”

Once, in sixth grade, Jack had made the mistake of wearing his boyscout uniform to school because the troop was meeting right afterwards. One time. Gabriel had never let Jack forget it. It didn’t matter that Jack had stopped being a boyscout after that year. Five years later, the teasing name persisted.

“Let me get changed.” Gabriel plucked at the front of his damp sweater and stuck out his tongue. “I’ll meet you in the parking lot.”

He hiked the bag higher on his shoulder, pivoted, but paused to smirk up at Jack. He stuck out one leg and tilted it side to side. The motion drew Jack’s eyes to the where the shorts pulled up, revealing the bottom of Gabriel’s thighs; the black material stretched tight around the muscles.

“They’re thermals,” Gabriel said.

Jack scoffed and turned his face aside as a heat seared along his cheeks. “Sure look like tights to me.”

Laughter echoed off the concrete walls as Gabriel turned away, waving his middle finger over his head as he left. Jack watched him go, dazed by the playful exchange. At school, Gabriel was always on guard; postured and ready to fight, his words barbed and poisonous. Yet the time spent on the ice had transformed him, cleared the storm into a cool, autumn sky. He was funny, personable, and — and it felt like they could be friends.

Jack puzzled over the change as he circled back to Genji. Together they relocated to the parking lot and leaned against the hood of Gabriel's car. Jack took to scuffing his sneaker against the loose bits of asphalt as he mulled over the possibilities. Hope nagged at him. It squeezed at his heart while doubt turned like a jagged rock in his stomach. Ten minutes passed before Gabriel emerged, changed and with Jesse McCree in tow.

The rest of the team trickled out the doors, all of them heading toward the parked vehicles like a loose pack of wolves. A thread of unease tightened between Jack’s shoulders and his hands slipped into his pockets.

Gabriel spotted him. “Get your ass off my car, Morrison.”

The shout, perhaps meant as a friendly jest, drew the attention of the pack. Heads raised, eyes narrowed, and paths shifted.

Jack stood as the circle tightened. “Genji, go to the truck.”

Genji stood beside him, unmoving, and put away his phone.

Jack clenched his jaw as he wondered if it had all been an elaborate ploy. A way for him to lower his guard, to fool him into thinking they could be friends. He glared at Gabriel as the feeling of betrayal, sharp as a razor wire, cut through him.

Faced with Jack’s animosity, Gabriel’s brows lifted in a questioning manner and his pace slowed. Then, bit by bit, his expression pinched into a familiar scowl.

“Whoa guys.” Jesse picked up on the tension and spun around, eyeballing the rest of the team. “We’re just talkin’ — right, Gabe?”

It took an elbow to the ribs, courtesy of Jesse, to snap Gabriel out of his pensive frown. He regarded the rest of his team as if noticing them for the first time. And just like that, the coin flipped. Gabriel’s postured changed and the dark storm clouds rolled back over his expression. His eyes flicked over Jack, dismissive and disdainful.

Acid coated Jack’s tongue as his stomach rolled in response to the look.

“That’s up to Morrison,” Gabriel said.

Jack’s fingers began to curl into fists. He shrugged, the motion a sharp rise and drop of his shoulders. When he spoke, it was through gritted teeth, “Just talk.”

“Looks like he wants to do more than talk,” Akande goaded.

Amid the leers, Jack steadied his gaze on Gabriel alone. He waited for Gabriel to do something — _anything_ — to remedy the situation. Gabriel looked bored and Jack wondered, with great disappointment, why he had even bothered trying to reason with a guy that had his head so far up his own ass. It was like dealing with Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. It wasn't worth the stress that was eating a hole through his gut.

“Fuck you,” Jack spat as he grabbed Genji by the shoulder and pushed his way through the team.

Mauga caught him by the arm and spun him back around.

“Let him go,” Gabriel said.

Mauga's large fingers tightened around Jack’s bicep, digging into the muscle, and he looked from Gabriel to Akande. The latter nodded and Jack was shoved forward. Jack, his face hot with bridled rage, stumbled and stalked away without looking back, half-dragging Genji along because of his longer stride.

The radio blared the entire ride home.

Jack didn’t notice the text messages until he went to plug in his phone after hastily doing his chores.

**Reyes:** `I thought you wanted to talk`

**Reyes:** `So we’re not talking now?`

**Reyes:** `Tonight. 7pm. Casagranda's.`

The last message had been sent an hour after the first two. Jack tossed the phone onto his desk and attempted to forget what he’d read. His eyes flicked toward the digital clock near his bed. Six o’clock. It took twenty minutes to drive into town. If he feigned ignorance for at least forty minutes, it’d be too late to make whatever meet-up Gabriel intended to have.

Probably just another set-up.

Jack laid out his homework, began working on it, but his attention strayed from his notebook, darting first to his phone then to the clock as the minutes ticked by at an agonizing pace. Ten more minutes and it’d be too late to shower.

_Why Casagranda?_

It was a steakhouse located downtown; a nicer restaurant that could afford to have fish flown in from the coast to offer sushi on Thursdays. Jack tapped his pencil against the desk as he rolled the peculiar scenario around his mind.

It might be an attempt to apologize for earlier, but it also could be a way to stick him with an expensive bill.

He could go and refuse to order—

No.

Several more escape plans flitted through his thoughts to spite him. If he didn’t go, he wouldn’t know what it meant. For all he knew, it could be the answer to the great mystery behind Gabriel’s split personality. It could be an olive branch. Or a dagger. Gabriel might not even be there at all.

At 6:30, Jack found himself dressed in slacks and an open dress shirt, scowling at his phone. He brushed his teeth while fumbling to text Angela about his forthcoming demise.

**Jack:** `Meeting with Reyes tonight`

**Angie:** `If you’re not at school tomorrow, I’ll tell the police who murdered you`

**Jack:** `Promise to cry at my funeral?`

**Angie:** `As long as I’m in your will`

**Jack:** `I’ll leave you my dog`

Jack did up his shirt buttons, tucked in the loose tails, and briefly fussed over his hair before grabbing the truck keys.

His mother called to him as he passed the kitchen, “Where are you going?”

He fidgeted with his keys, not entirely sure how to explain his break in routine. It was late, in the middle of the school week, and unusual for him. On weekends he might go see a movie with Angela, but that was it. Jack knew his father would tell him he couldn’t go, but luckily they hadn’t seen each other since the reprimand over dinner.

“I have to meet up with someone about a school project.”

She looked him over, then smiled in a way that made him suspicious and confused. “Have fun, dear.”

“Okay…”

The hostess at Casagranda smiled just as suspiciously when Jack mentioned he was there to meet with Gabriel Reyes. She had looked down at her seating chart, repeated his name, and had led him to a small table near the kitchen.

Candles flickered, offering a soft, dim lighting to the room, playing over the families and couples dining at the nearby tables. It was cozy and romantic, two words Jack would never relate to Gabriel. It all felt wrong.

As Jack sipped at his water, feigning nonchalance, his heart battered against his ribs like a trapped bird. His fingers picked at the menu as he stared, unseeing, at the candle flame. It was a joke. It had to be. Why, out of all places, would Gabriel want to meet there?

“Good evening.” Jack’s head snapped up in response to the familiar, low timbres of Gabriel’s voice. “What can I get you—”

The words cut off when their gazes met. Gabriel’s brow furrowed as he searched Jack’s face for an explanation. In turn, Jack took in the black slacks and button up of Gabriel’s uniform. Seeing Gabriel in anything besides a hooded sweatshirt was a shock. He looked good. Really good. The change in wardrobe did well to show off his athletic shape. His hair, often mussed at school, had been styled for the night; the warm lighting accented the deep chestnut color.

If he smiled, Jack was willing to bet Gabriel made a killing in tips. He was handsome, Jack could no longer argue against it, not when he wished Gabriel would smile to complete the picture.

Instead Jack was graced with a deepening scowl.

Gabriel glanced at Jack’s empty table before he stuffed the pen and notepad into the small apron hugging his hips. “What are you doing here?”

A crease formed between Jack’s brows. “You told me to come.”

“No, I didn’t.”

A palpable confusion rose between them. Jack recovered first, digging out his phone and revealing the text. Gabriel snatched the phone, took out his own, and compared the messages. His expression smoothed and he tossed back Jack’s phone. His eyes narrowed but, for once, the look was not directed at Jack.

“I didn’t send that text.”

Jack rubbed at his brow, feeling sick as he glowered at his closed menu. “Of course you didn’t.”

“I—” Gabriel growled and scanned the full restaurant. “Get up.”

Appalled at the idea of getting kicked out of the restaurant, Jack sat upright and searched Gabriel’s face. He would leave on his own damn time, with his dignity intact, but only after his head stopped spinning.

“Are you planning on eating?”

Jack shook his head.

“Then get up.”

Unable to see how to save the awkward situation without making a scene, Jack numbly stood from the table. The air thinned as his lungs shuddered with shallowing breaths. A sharp pain pinched between his brows. As he turned to leave, Gabriel grabbed his arm and hauled him through the kitchen doors. Jack stumbled along, catching a flash of working staff and a whiff of cooking steaks before he was pulled out the back door.

Gabriel let him go, leaving him to stand on the stained concrete next to a large grease bin. A brick wall separated them from the employee parking area. Gabriel gestured to where several plastic chairs were lined up against the building wall. Jesse sat in one of them, a white apron over his knees, staring at them from behind a lit cigarette.

“I get off soon, stay here with this phone stealing bastard.”

The door banged shut behind Gabriel, leaving Jack a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.

Jesse looked him over. “I take it didn’t go well.”

The tightness in Jack’s chest eased as he slowly drew in one deep breath after another to steady his nerves. He ran a hand over his face, feeling worn but calm enough to make sense of the last thirty seconds.

He dropped his hand and met Jesse’s smile with a flat look. “You sent the text.”

“Yeah.” Jesse’s wiggled the cigarette between his fingers before putting it to his lips. “Thought it might work.”

Jack slumped into the chair next to Jesse and accepted the cigarette when it was offered. He sucked in a lungful of smoke and let his head fall back as he exhaled. Overdressed, embarrassed, and so goddamn tired of Gabriel’s shit, Jack sank further into the plastic chair.

“It’s never going to work out,” he said.

“Dun say that.” Jesse’s leaned closer, his arm brushing Jack’s, and smirked. “You should have heard the chewing out Sombra gave him after school.”

A smile tugged at the corner of Jack’s lips. “Oh?”

“Oh yeah, she ripped him a new one for sure.”

“Didn’t seem to change things.”

“Yeah, well—”

The door swung open, halting their conversation. Gabriel strode over and passed Jesse a small wad of cash, a share in tips, before his eyes hinged on the cigarette perched between Jack’s fingers. His brows rose as he studied Jack’s face, then the cigarette. His gaze flicked between the two twice more before turning to Jesse. “I don’t know whether to scold or applaud you for corrupting Mr. Perfect.”

Jesse tucked the money into the chest pocket of his plaid shirt and winked at Jack. “Been told I’ve got the devil’s own charm.”

Gabriel swiped the cigarette from Jack’s hand and brought it to his own lips.

“Hey.” Jesse nudged at Gabriel’s knee. “I wasn’t sharin’ with you.”

With a snort, Gabriel directed a stream of smoke at Jesse. “Excuse me? You want to walk home?”

Jack felt off kilter, out of place, like a pair of sneakers hanging from a power line. He didn’t belong there. Yet there he was, stuck and uncomfortable. His gaze locked on Gabriel, waiting for the moment his relaxed demeanor would stiffen and his tongue would sharpen. Any moment now, the duality of Gabriel’s personality would shift, and the walls would come up.

“Jack will give me a ride home,” Jesse said.

The skin on the back of Jack’s neck prickled as Gabriel’s attention swiveled to him. Jack met those dark eyes, his mind fuzzy and blank under the intensity of the searching, thoughtful look.

Gabriel smirked. “You poaching my friend, Morrison?”

A weight settled behind the question; a challenge. Jack stood, hating the desire he felt to prove himself. Hated that he had to prove anything at all. They couldn’t be friends; their volatile history proved it. As much as Jack wanted to be part of the friendly exchange, he came to nail down an agreeable arrangement with his co-captain, not fall into the same trap.

Jack stole back the cigarette. “You forget that he lives at my place over the summer?”

“I told you he’s an okay guy, Gabe,” Jesse added.

“Traitor,” Gabriel said, without venom, to Jesse. Then his dark, golden eyes were back on Jack, keen as a wolf's regarding its next meal the moment before the chase. Jack stilled, his throat tight, and Gabriel made his move, catching him by the wrist. The press of fingertips burned through the thin material of his sleeve.

“Smoking doesn’t suit you, boyscout.”

The gentle tease, paired with Gabriel’s faint smile, rendered Jack useless. His heart hammered in his ears as Gabriel’s hand skimmed over his, whisking away the burning nub and flicking it into a coffee tin near the door.

Jack, his face and neck ablaze, shoved his hands deep into his pockets, looked toward the parking lot, and vied to reestablish the purpose of the meeting. “Are you going to come to tryouts?”

“I have to find someone to cover my shift.”

“Ask Moira,” Jesse said.

“No.”

“She’ll do it.” Jesse grinned. “She wants in your pants.”

“That’s exactly why I’m not asking her.”

Jack took a half step toward the parking lot as he sighed, “Yes, or no?”

“Alright,” Gabriel snapped with a sharp gesture of his hand.

Whether the anger was the mask, or what laid beneath the playful demeanor, Jack had yet to decide. There was passion in the things Gabriel said and did; a strong undercurrent of emotions he wasn’t always able to temper down to a growl.

Gabriel untied his serving apron. “I’ll be there.”

“Hallelujah!” Jesse shouted with raised arms.

A second later Jesse struggled to shield himself from the whipping Gabriel gave him with the apron ties. Gabriel growled at him, something in Spanish, and emphasized it with a jabbing finger to the shoulder.

The grin on Jesse’s face suggested the harsh words were not all that terrible.

Gabriel’s gaze cast over Jack’s attire before he turned and walked toward the parking lot. “You can ride home with your other friend.”

Safe from any further retaliation, Jesse climbed to his feet and bumped his shoulder against Jack’s. “I told you he’d come around.”

A door closed in the parking lot, followed by the sound of an engine turning. Jack listened to the crack of loose rocks under the roll of tires and wondered if things between him and Gabriel would ever settle, if they’d ever come to an understanding. Whenever Jack thought he had Gabriel figured out, thought order had been brought to the chaos, Gabriel would do or say something to contradict Jack’s assessment.

Jack pulled out his keys and glanced side-long at Jesse. “Yeah, he’s all for it until your hockey pals are around.”

“Hey now.” Jesse’s boots made a distinctive clipping sound as they walked across the parking lot. “That’s Akande’s doing. He’s looking for a way to knock Gabe down from captain.”

Jack considered the information while they got in his truck and buckled in. It was a wonder why Akande was going to public school at all. He came from a rich family; never wanted for anything. If he wanted special privileges, his parents could bully the school with donations.

As they pulled out of the lot, Jack turned toward the trailer court where Jesse lived. After a couple blocks his curiosity got the better of him. “His parents can’t just buy it for him?”

“I’m sure they could.” Jesse touched at the pack of cigarettes in his pocket, but a narrowed look from Jack reminded him that smoking wasn’t allowed in the truck. Jesse settled for picking at his lower lip. “But that’s not how Akande likes to play things. It’d bore him; make it too easy. He prefers a subtle approach — making it look like the natural course of things, or like an accident.”

It came as no surprise to hear that Gabriel was smack dab amid a drama worthy of day time television. Jack shook his head. “What’s any of that have to do with me?”

“If Gabe looks favorable to you n’this other team, then it looks like he’s not invested in the hockey team.”

“So he’s an asshole because he doesn’t want to look weak?”

Jesse shrugged. “Maybe.”

Jack snorted. ”I think Gabriel is an asshole just because he wants to be.”

“Well, there is that but—” Jesse bit down on his lip and ran a hand through his hair. “It’s just easier to deal with when you know where it’s coming from.”

“Aside from his problems with Akande?”

“Yeah, besides that.”

Jack arched a brow. “So where’s the rest coming from?”

“Not really my place to say.”

The cryptic comments failed to shed light on the situation. It sounded like an excuse for Gabriel to act like a prick. Jack’s fingers tightened around the steering wheel until it squeaked and his knuckles went white. Jesse was making excuses for Gabriel, Sombra was trying to talk sense into him, but no one was responsible for Gabriel _but_ Gabriel.

“I’m not accepting that, Jess. He doesn’t get a free pass to—”

“I ain’t saying that.” Jesse rounded on Jack, his eyes hard. “I ain’t saying he’s got an excuse to treat y’all like he does. He’s gotta own up to his own shit, but what I’m saying is it’s easier t’understand when ya know where he’s comin’ from.”

The flash of anger startled Jack into silence. While Jesse had his moments, usually early in the morning before he had either coffee or a smoke, he rarely snapped at anyone. He was down to earth and easy to talk to about anything, but it was clear that that particular line of conversation was not open for discussion.

Jack dropped the subject, because he didn’t understand, and drove on in uninterrupted silence.

  
**:::**  
_Louder than sirens_  
_Louder than bells  
Sweeter than heaven  
And hotter than hell_  
**:::**


	3. I Will Possess Your Heart - Death Cab for Cutie

**:::**  
_How I wish you could see the potential  
The potential of you and me  
It's like a book elegantly bound  
but in a language that you can't read just yet_  
**:::**

  


The turn out wasn’t large but it was decent, a little less than twenty people. Jack tapped his clipboard against his thigh to stave off the urge to check his phone because, of those people, none of them were Gabriel.

It was disappointing, but a small thread of hope kept him stalling for more time. His eyes flicked toward the gym doors, propped open and empty, and his heart sank. Pushing the feeling aside, Jack exhaled and raised his clipboard to go over the names.

Angela, naturally, had come to the tryout, which meant Genji was happy to tag along. A teammate from cross-country, Lena, had also showed. There was Jesse, reeking of cigarettes despite a dousing of body spray and several sticks of gum. Sombra and Hana, upon arriving, had immediately chided Jack over the lack of snacks. Jack had pointed to the water fountain which had earned him an ‘ugh’ in return.

Further down the list the names and faces grew less familiar.

Jamison: tall, squirrely, and only interested in a one-sided conversation with himself. Mako: large, intimidating, and if not for him being the goalie for the hockey team, showing some promise of athletic ability, Jack might have written him off as a lost cause. Satya held herself like royalty, chin high, and was growing more irritated the longer Jack stalled.

The less enthused tryouts lingered in a loose circle near the bleachers, their arms crossed and their weight shifting. Zarya, Mei, Bastion, and Orisa. Jack tapped their names with his pencil before his eyes wandered up to the large clock hanging on the wall behind the basketball hoop. Nearly fifteen minutes had elapsed from the starting time, he really couldn’t delay much longer because he’d only reserved the gym for an hour.

A shout from Jesse roped Jack’s attention to the doors where Gabriel strode in, carrying a pack of Gatorade which he lugged over to the bleachers.

Jack slowly exhaled as a weight rolled off his shoulders.

“Nice of you to show yer face,” Jesse drawled.

“Fuck off.” Gabriel glowered, the expression smoothing into a half-grin as he glanced in Jack’s direction. “Sombra said there were no snacks, so I had to swing by the store first. _You’re welcome_.”

Jack shook his head, glad to see Gabriel but annoyed by his tardiness. "You could have texted me."

"I could have." Gabriel brushed aside Jack's irritation and walked over.

Dressed comfortably in gym shorts and black hoodie, Gabriel's posture was relaxed and open, yet Jack couldn't shake the initial wave of distrust tensing between his shoulders. The ground between them remained rocky and Jack wasn't quite sure where to step. A dull ringing started in his ears as Gabriel stood next him, leaning closer to peer down at the clipboard.

"What's this?" Gabriel asked.

Aside from the list of names and contact numbers, Jack had divided the page into two columns marked with a plus and negative symbols. He planned to tailor the practices around everyone’s strengths and weaknesses. Although, when faced with Gabriel’s judgment — Gabriel who was already a captain of one team — Jack felt foolish.

Before Jack could do more than open his mouth to explain away the list, Gabriel had spun toward the bleachers, a growl rumbling behind his words, “Mako, what the hell are you doing here? Go home.”

Sitting next to the pack of Gatorade and already lightly heaving, Mako grunted something indistinguishable, in a timbre impressively low even next to Gabriel’s, and pried a plastic bottle from the pack.

Jack smacked Gabriel’s arm with the clipboard, then pointedly frowned at him. The antagonism might have been the norm for the hockey team, but Jack didn’t want it to carry over to the Spartan team.

Gabriel made an irritated sound and gestured at Mako’s heavy frame. “We can’t take everyone. Isn’t the point to win this thing?”

“We just need to compete.”

“Amari wants a trophy.”

“Amari can kiss my ass.”

Gabriel’s brows shot up to his hairline. Jack questioned him with a look to which Gabriel responded by snatching the pencil from Jack’s hand. He pushed the clipboard level and scribbled a series of X’s in the weakness column next to Mako’s name before Jack could wrest it back.

“He’s a decent goalie, but he doesn’t have much else going for him,” Gabriel said.

“Don’t be a prick,” Jack muttered while erasing the marks.

“I’m being honest.”

He brushed the eraser residue from his paper, warned Gabriel with a look — which only made Gabriel grin — and raised his voice to address the gym. “We’re starting with endurance.”

It took a few moments for the students to not only accept his authority, but also to comply with his directions. He was about as comfortable in bossing them around as they were in taking orders from him. Jack hoped a few practices would work out the kinks and they’d be able to ease into a comfortable routine.

They began running laps around the gym and, after the first two laps, the gap between levels of athleticism became noticeable. Genji and Lena breezed by, but given that they both ran with the track team, Jack would have been disappointed if they hadn’t excelled at this portion of the tryout. Angela and Satya, dogged by a red-faced Hana, were not far behind. Gabriel yelled at Sombra to 'hurry her ass up' as she lagged behind Jesse.

“You should be running too,” Jack said, steering Gabriel’s harassment away from the tryouts.

Gabriel crossed his arms. “I’m not running with the tryouts.”

With a hum and a smirk, Jack made a show of writing on his clipboard. Gabriel leaned over to watch as Jack added Gabriel’s name to the list and scrawled a quick ‘slow runner’ beside it.

A smile twitched at the corners of Gabriel’s lips. “Very funny, Morrison.”

Despite the arid tone to the words, Jack perked up. “Thank you.”

Mako trudged by, heaving and barely moving faster than he could walk, and the beanpole — Jamison — bobbed beside him, shouting encouraging nonsense ( _”Just a bit further, pal. Almost there. Around n’around we go, when do we stop? When Morrison says so!”_ ).

Gabriel shook his head at the pair.

“Oh my god.” Sombra stopped in front of them, hair stuck to the sides of her flushed face, and she doubled over to catch her breath. Between pants she complained, “Do we really have to run this much?”

Jack hesitated before making a mark next to Sombra’s name, noting she needed more time on the track. He glanced at Gabriel, who had watched, and waited for some brotherly argument. Gabriel merely shrugged, apparently having no qualms with the comment, and Jack lowered the clipboard to address everyone. “There’s three sections, approximately two miles long each, in the race. So stamina—” his gaze lowered back to Sombra, “—is important.”

She flopped to the floor and sprawled out on her back. “We’re all going to die.”

“Oh come on.” Lean stopped next to them, planting her hands on her knees as she leaned over Sombra and flashed a quick grin. “We have all year to train. It’ll be easy-peasy!”

“Leave me alone.” Sombra draped an arm over her face. “I want to die alone, twisting in agony and bitterness.”

Lena shot Jack a helpless look in response to the other girl’s dramatics. Jack steeled himself with a slow, deep breath. Theatrics must run in the family, he thought, and nudged Sombra’s leg out of the path of the others before stepping over her.

In the middle of the room a thick rope hung from a low rafter. Blue mats circled the floor around it. Jack finished making his check marks on his list before raising his voice, “Everyone get a drink and we’ll try the rope climb.”

A few students walked out and Jack tried not to let it bother him. It did, because it felt like a mark of failure. It highlighted his lack of experience as a captain. But, strangely, as Gabriel glared at those leaving, Jack felt a little better about it.

The other tryouts gathered around the rope. In between grinning and joking they took turns climbing it. Most of them barely made it a few feet before dropping to the mats. To Jack’s surprise, the first one to make it all the way up was Satya. She ascended with fierce, calculated moves and descended with an impressive show of grace, landing softly, but firm footed, on the mat.

“She always was an overachiever,” Gabriel said from beside Jack.

As much as he played it off, it was nerve-racking to have Gabriel continuously hover near his shoulder. “Friend of yours?”

“Nah, she’s the valedictorian of my class — on the honor roll since grade school.”

Genji was the second one to reach the top, his movements reminiscent of a monkey after Satya’s artful technique. He waved — at Angela — from the top. When he came down, he dropped the last six feet and rolled off the impact like a trained gymnast. For a kid that showed little interest outside his phone and laptop, Genji had a surprising amount of athleticism. Jack wondered if perhaps, back in Japan, Genji wasn’t allowed to slack off like he did in the States. It explained why Hanzo always sounded disappointed with Genji’s weekly recap.

The test came to a halt when Jamison scrambled up the rope and, upon looking back down, clung to the anchor attached to the rafter.

As the others tried to coax Jamison back down, Gabriel canted his head to the side and bumped against Jack’s shoulder. “Do you think Amari would call the whole thing off if he fell and broke his neck?”

Jack paled at the thought. “As much as I am looking forward to working with you all year,” he toned with grumbling sarcasm, “let’s not wish harm on anyone.”

A girlish shriek filled the gym as Jamison, having crept a few feet lower, decided to slide down the rope as if it was a fireman’s pole. Jack rushed forward with the others. They huddled around where Angela knelt next to Jamison, examining the friction burns on his palms.

Gabriel leaned against Jack, tapped at the clipboard, and whispered, “Write ‘is an idiot’ on there.”

Distracted by the warmth of the chest pressed against him, the subtle waft of cologne, and the low voice so close to his ear, Jack almost missed Angela informing him she had a first aid kit in her car. He nodded to her then rolled off Gabriel’s weight. With each jest, each friendly invasion of space, Jack struggled to keep up his guard.

“You think you can do better?” Jack said to Gabriel while Mako hoisted Jamison up by the shirt collar and hauled him to the bleachers.

The challenge wasn’t meant to be taken seriously, but Gabriel responded by grinning and walking over to the rope. Jack followed him, concerned. After Jamison’s accident, Jack realized his mistake. It was a stupid oversight. He shouldn’t have included the rope climb. The last thing he needed was someone getting seriously injured.

“Gabriel...”

But Gabriel already had his hands around the rope when he met Jack’s worried look. “Watch and learn.”

Annoyed, Jack caught the bottom of the rope as Gabriel began climbing. He watched the flex in Gabriel’s arms, adamantly refusing to be impressed. It was easier for lighter guys, like Jamison and Genji, to zip up the rope. Gabriel was not light. He had to work to reach the top. When he did, Gabriel slapped the rafter in victory and grinned down at Jack.

Jack let go of the rope and — making sure Gabriel watched — wrote ‘show off’ beneath his earlier notion of ‘slow runner’. He flattened the clipboard to his chest to prevent Gabriel from reading it once he climbed down. Gabriel pouted, dogged at his shoulder, but Jack ignored him and directed the tryouts — sans Angela who was treating Jamison's injuries — to do sit ups.

“Why are we doing this?” Hana strained to make it up to her knees.

“Because practices will consist of a mix between strength training and building your endurance,” Jack said.

Hana flopped down next to Sombra, her dark hair haloed around her flushed face. “I changed my mind. I don’t want to try out anymore.”

“Shut up,” Sombra whined at her. “We _have_ to do this.”

Wondering why Sombra _had_ to try out, Jack peered at Gabriel, only to find him smiling fondly at his sister. Ten minutes earlier Gabriel had been yelling at her to run faster. Three days ago he had tried dissuading her from trying out at all. Either Gabriel’s mind changed at the drop of a hat, or he never let on to his true thoughts. Maybe, Jack thought while recalling his deceased brother, relationships between siblings were interlacing layers of affection and annoyance. It was never really one thing or the other.

He shoved the thoughts aside before they could gain traction.

After Jack finished walking the line of grousing teenagers, he called for them to switch to push ups. They barely made it to the count of two before they sprawled unmoving on the gym floor.

“Why ain’t you two doin’ this stuff?” Jesse laid back on his elbows, his unruly, brown hair plastered to his forehead. “As far as I understand it, you’ll be in the race too.”

A collective agreement of tired voices backed up Jesse’s complaint.

“Oh.” Gabriel smirked as he folded his arms behind his back. “I didn’t want to make Jack look bad.”

_As if_ , Jack thought while side-eying Gabriel. 

Gabriel returned the look with a grin. The challenge was plain and clear. And, while Gabriel was most definitely a jock — he’d cycled through just about every sport until finding his calling in hockey — Jack liked to think of himself as physically fit. Between running and farm work, he figured he got more of a work out than most, if not all, present company.

He blamed his pride for the reason he found himself palming the floor across from Gabriel, matching him push up for push up. Gabriel led, dipping down, rising up, then pausing a half second for Jack to follow. Jesse and Lena kept count while Jack’s focus zeroed in on Gabriel’s smirk.

“Eleven!”

Down. Up.

"Twelve!”

Gabriel’s smirk grew. “Is milking cows part of your exercise routine?”

Jack paused, exhaling a sharp laugh at the ridiculous jest. He lifted his head enough to make sure he had Gabriel's full attention, then he adjusted his position; widening his legs and shifting a hand to palm the floor near the center of his chest. He lifted the other hand, placed it against his back, and evenly met Gabriel’s eyes.

“Shit,” Gabriel said under his breath and mimicked Jack’s stance, wobbling slightly from the unfamiliarity of one-handed push ups.

Jack took the lead, slowly dipping down and back up. Gabriel followed, his arm shaking. Jack did another, feeling the burn in his muscles. Gabriel did the same, his lips set in a firm line. Another, then another, and Gabriel flopped to the floor as his arm gave out. Jack did one more, to prove a point, before settling back on his knees. His arm screamed from the strain, but it was worth it.

He picked up his clipboard and patted Gabriel’s head with it as he stood. “Don’t have cows.”

“Whatever.” Gabriel rolled onto his back, grinning as he rubbed at his shoulder. “I’m just tired from climbing the rope.”

“If you say so,” Jack mused while adding ‘sore loser’ to Gabriel’s list of weaknesses.

It caught Gabriel’s attention. He rose onto his knees while his brows pinched together. “What the hell are you writing now?”

“Notes.” Jack stepped away to address the others. “Thank you, everyone, for coming today. This was a taste of how practices will be for the time being. I have everyone’s number so I will send a group text once I figure out—” _stuff_. God knew Jack had no clue what he was doing and he was just making it up as he went, “—when we can hold practices together.”

After a chorus of ‘thanks’ and ‘byes’ the majority of the group left. Angela gave Genji a ride home since Jack had to stay and clean the gym. Gabriel stayed, offering to help move the mats back into storage while Sombra sat by the doors, playing on her phone, waiting for him to be done.

The mats, while easy to take out, were not so easy to put back in the storage closet. No amount of shoving got them to slot back into the crowded space. Jack ended up bent over one, straining to untangle the mat’s corner from a volleyball net.

Gabriel leaned against the trapped mat, chin in his upturned palm as he watched Jack struggle. “Why did you take notes?”

Too exhausted to be embarrassed by it, Jack sighed and gave up on freeing the mat. “So I know what everyone needs to work on.”

“We’re really keeping everyone?”

“Yeah—” Jack stood as Gabriel ducked out of the storage closet. He appeared a moment later, blocking the way and holding the clipboard. Recalling the silly notes he’d made next to Gabriel’s name, Jack scrambled to his feet and reached for it. Gabriel pivoted, holding the clipboard out of reach while his eyes skimmed back and forth down the list until they reached his name at the bottom.

Jack’s stomach dropped to his toes as Gabriel smirked.

“Oh,” Gabriel said, a dangerous glint to his eyes. “I see how it is now.”

Taking the pencil from where it was tucked under the clip, Gabriel stood with his back to Jack and scribbled down his own notes.

“Don’t—” Jack pushed against Gabriel, but he didn’t budge from the door. Jack reached around him, managing to get his fingertips around the edge of the clipboard before Gabriel stretched his arms, putting it back out of reach. “Give it to me.”

“We’re both captains, so I have a right to add my own notes.”

With a sigh, Jack went slack, catching himself just before his head plunked down on the back of Gabriel’s shoulder. He stepped back, bumping into the askew mat. “Damnit Gabe, move your ass.”

“Almost done and—” He stepped out and held the clipboard toward Jack. “It’s fixed. How many do we need to compete?”

“Ten.” Jack scanned the list. Most of it was unchanged, except the writing at the bottom. Gabriel added, to his own name, ‘is awesome and better than Jack at everything’. Then, below it, he had added Jack’s name along with a hastily scratched ‘likes to milk cows’ and ‘country hick’.

Jack started erasing the comments. “Real mature.”

“Thank you,” Gabriel chimed as he counted the tryouts on his fingers, when he got to ten he stopped. “We don’t need Mako.”

“I’m not cutting anyone.”

“Then what was the damn point of having tryouts?”

Jack massaged his temple, sensing the fragile suspension of their alliance quaver. Like fierce swell of warm, rain scented wind just before a storm hit. “You saw how those people walked out after I talked about how much running is involved. I don’t want people on the team that don’t want to _try_.”

He dropped his hand, his expression softening because he didn't want to quarrel with Gabriel. “Mako wants to try.”

“This isn’t like t-ball where everyone gets to bat and run around the bases.”

“He stays.”

Gabriel rubbed at his jaw, thoughtful. His eyes hardened, then, with something as simple as a shrug, the argument was dismissed. At least that part of it. In its stead came a sharper line of questioning. “I thought you hated the hockey team, but you’re nice to Jesse and Mako.” The short, scoffing laugh Gabriel emitted lacked humor. “You just like to fight with me?”

Gabriel’s expression shuttered, flashing with the same apologetic regret he’d shown during their fist fight. It passed. His mood shifted, replaced with a simmering rage. His posture stiffened and, without a word, he turned and stalked toward the exit.

After a half second of wild confusion, Jack stumbled out of the closet after him. It didn’t make sense. Jack hadn’t even said anything. He'd just hunched there like a kicked puppy silently pleading for Gabriel not to be angry at him.

“Gabe, wait — Gabe!”

“Fuck off,” Gabriel snarled.

Sombra leapt to her feet as Gabriel neared. Her widened eyes flicked between the two, silently questioning the storm that had kicked up around them.

Jack caught Gabriel’s arm just before the door. “What the hell — I’m _sorry_ — what did I do?”

Growling, Gabriel knocked the hand aside and put space between them. “Leave it alone.”

“But, I don’t understand — I didn’t do anything!”

“Just—” Gabriel hand cut through the air and Jack flinched backwards. Seeing this, Gabriel snapped his hand back and pinched at the bridge of his nose. His fingers splayed over the rest of his face. “Just leave it alone, Jack.”

Jack’s shoulders stooped and he retreated another step. His gaze fell away and he picked at the corner of his clipboard. An ache bloomed in his chest; it reached out with thorny brambles and sapped his strength. He wanted, so much, to understand why everything continued to fall apart.

But he relented.

With eyes still low, Jack quietly asked, “Will you text me when you can do practices?”

“Whatever.” Gabriel turned to leave, but Sombra’s scowl halted him. A fleeting, backward glance at Jack earned a frustrated groan, “Fuck. _Fine_. I’ll text you, okay? Just, right now, I need to take my sister home.”

Jack gave a meek nod and, with that, Gabriel left with Sombra.

As soon as he was alone, Jack let out a shaky breath and ran a hand through his hair. The last five minutes replayed through his head. What the hell? They had been getting along then, in the span of a heart beat, Gabriel couldn’t get away from him fast enough. It hurt.

Jack brooded over it while shoving the last floor mats into the storage closet. He gathered his things, shut off the lights and shut the gym doors. He managed to make it out to his truck, put the keys into the ignition, before his autopilot failed.

Boneless and weary, Jack slouched over the steering wheel. He closed his eyes as his mind replayed the exchange. It burned through him, refusing to be buried.

He dug out his phone, unlocked the screen, and, before he could talk himself out of it, texted Gabriel.

**Jack:** `You okay?`

**Reyes:** `Driving`

**Jack:** `Text me when you get home?`

God, he must sound like such a schmuck. He could just imagine the way Gabriel would roll his eyes at the message. Jack smacked the phone against his forehead — _stupid, stupid_ — before tossing it to the other side of the truck. He shouldn’t care, but worry ate at him. A weight hung from his heart. He wanted to talk with Gabriel and, maybe, figure out what kind of guillotine kept dropping between them, severing any chance at making a lasting connection.

Jack cranked the radio up to drown out his spiraling thoughts as he drove the long twenty minutes home.

When he plugged his phone in to charge, he frowned at the lack of new messages. He pushed the phone out of sight, changed out of his gym clothes and turned his thoughts toward his chores, craving the monotony of a familiar routine to pave over his troubled thoughts.

Soldier, his German Shepherd, dutifully padded alongside him as he walked back out of the house. The loose gravel crunched under his work boots as he crossed the driveway and stepped into the workshop. There he found his father, elbow deep in the engine of a truck that had given out last summer.

“Where were you?” His father asked, not pausing from his work.

The accusation behind the question drove Jack’s hands into his coat pockets. “I told mom where I was going this morning.”

“Yeah, she said something about you having to go to town.”

“For a school thing.”

“On a Saturday.”

Jack tensed. “It was only a couple hours.”

The flat look his father pinned on him ended the discussion. Jack knew the lecture attached to the look. His excursion into town was pointless socializing; everything that happened in High School wouldn’t matter in two years. Don’t waste the gas, the money, the time. Focus on the future, which was the farm, and the farm wasn’t going to take care of itself.

“Sorry.” Jack looked away and watched as Soldier scouted the shop for signs of the elusive, feral cats. “What did you want me to do?”

Three hours later, after chores and a quiet dinner, Jack showered and retreated to his room. He tugged his phone back into view. A tendril of hope burned along his sternum. No new messages. His face fell. It struck Jack then, as a spear of loneliness, that he didn’t want so much want to talk to Gabriel as much as he just wanted _someone_ to talk to.

Lately, Angela was too busy with her own life and Jack didn’t want to burden her with his dour mood. Genji, as nice and doting as he was toward Angela, acted self-absorbed at home. Jack had no other friends. Despite his mother’s encouragement to bring home friends, his father silently discouraged it, and it left Jack with no one.

Jack crawled into bed, unable to explain the weariness weighing on his soul. He slept, fitfully, until his phone woke him at midnight. It rang, not with a text but, with an incoming call.

**:::**  
_You gotta spend some time, love  
You gotta spend some time with me  
And I know that you'll find love  
I will possess your heart_  
**:::**


	4. Undisclosed Desires - Muse

  
**:::**  
_You trick your lovers  
That you're wicked and divine  
You may be a sinner  
But your innocence is mine_   
**:::**  


Jack slapped a hand over the phone buzzing across his desk. He fumbled to unplug it from the charger before rolling back into the warm covers of his bed and mechanically answering the call.

“Yeah?”

_”Jack?”_

It was a girl’s voice, but not one he immediately recognized. Jack blearily looked around his dark room before squinting at the bright screen of his phone. Caller Unknown. His gaze flicked up to the time. Midnight. With a groan, Jack closed his eyes and pushed his face into his pillow. As an afterthought, he brought the phone back to his ear.

“Who?” He rasped, unable to string together a more coherent question.

_”Uh, this is Jack Morrison, yeah?”_

Aside from Angela, and his mother, the only phone calls Jack got from girls were the ones where giggling could be heard in the background. He didn’t know how they got his number, but they occasionally did, and with their friends egging them on in the background, they’d stumble over an attempt of asking him out. After several uncomfortable outings over the summer and feeling no connection, Jack had decided that the random dates were not worth the trouble. With that in mind, Jack mumbled into the phone, “I’m not interested…”

_”The fuck?”_

There was a murmuring of something decidedly not English from the phone.

_”Wake up, would you? I need a favor.”_

The mental cobwebs cleared and Jack recalled the image of a girl, wearing a black shirt silk screened with a purple skull, wallowing on the gym floor. “Sombra,” he said while sitting up, the blanket draped around his shoulders like a shawl. “You — right now?”

_”Yeah, sorry ‘bout the time and all, but it’s sorta an emergency.”_

That brought him to his feet; the blanket pooled around his ankles. “What happened?”

_”It’s Gabe—”_

A cold, ghostly wind passed through Jack as a dozen different tragic scenarios played through his mind’s eye. A car accident and Gabriel was in a coma. Gabriel eating strange food and having an allergic reaction. Akande showing up and starting a fight. Gabriel taking a wrong turn down a bleak, rural road—

_”He took off and I’m worried about him.”_

Adrenaline subsiding at the mundane reason, Jack rubbed at his eyes and sank back toward his beckoning bed. Given Gabriel’s surly personality, the idea of him storming out of the house after some minor disagreement didn’t sound atypical of Gabriel or any other temperamental teenager.

“I’m sure he’s fine.”

_”You don’t understand.”_

No, and he doubted he ever would understand the enigma surrounding Gabriel like a thorny bramble. “Sombra, it’s late…”

_”He got in a fight, okay? I need you to go find him before he does something stupid.”_

Jack tiredly grumbled at how inconsiderate Gabriel was for managing to get in a fight at such an inconvenient hour, but still resigned himself to search the floor for a pair of pants. “Where’d he go?”

_”Get Jesse, he’ll know.”_

“Why didn’t you just call _him_?”

_”Because he doesn’t have a truck.”_

Fair enough, Jack conceded, even if he bristled at being used because he had access to a vehicle. Surely Gabriel had other car-able friends — _actual_ friends — willing to fetch him. Jack was likely the last person Gabriel wanted to see while still hot from a fight.

He should have asked why she had chosen him, asked what kind of fight it was, but in the end the reason didn't matter. He stepped out into the cold night, keys in hand, having already decided to go.

At half past midnight, Jack knocked hardily on the door of Jesse’s trailer.

Jesse lived, more than less, alone. As far as Jack understood it, Jesse had never known his father and his mother was always off gallivanting with her latest boyfriend. They lived off of welfare and disability checks; the bills paid for but all the extra cash going into his mother’s pocket. Jesse never let on to his living situation, never showed that it bothered him. But after two summers of Jesse living at the farm over haying season, Jack did notice how Jesse preened under the doting attention of his mother.

Jack knocked again.

“Alright, alright! Stop bangin’ on my door!”

The trailer creaked as Jesse stumbled around, appearing in the doorway in nothing but his boxers. He flicked on the flimsy porch light and squinted at Jack. “Morrison? What the hell—” He twisted around as a woman’s voice started shouting from inside the trailer. “—Shut up, Ma! I’m takin’ care of it!”

Lights appeared in the windows of nearby trailers. Curtains twitched aside, revealing shadowed faces peering at the late night commotion. Jack stared, unable to detour his tired eyes from straying down Jesse’s bare chest and lingering on the dusting of hair above the waistband of his boxers.

Jesse stepped out into the cold, letting the screen door bounce shut behind him. “What’d ya want?”

Jack cleared his throat and forced his gaze north of Jesse’s navel. It was nothing he hadn’t seen before. Jesse wasn’t modest by any means. Last summer he’d stripped naked and jumped into the flooded ditch skirting the back fields. It had been a hot, summer day and —

Screwing his eyes shut, Jack pinched at the bridge of his nose to stave off the unwanted thoughts.

“Sombra told me to get you so you can help find Gabriel.”

“Oh _fuck_ — that dumb sum-a-bitch.” Jesse stomped back inside. Through the thin walls, Jack heard him ranting. “This always fuckin’ happens! Stupid piece o’shit! _Shut up_ , I’m _leaving_ , Ma. _Geez_.”

Jesse emerged, jeans and a shirt on, carrying his boots in the crook of one arm while he drew a comb through his unruly hair. An unlit cigarette dangled from his lips, bobbing as he struck out, barefoot, across the dirt driveway.

After glancing at the faces peeping at them from small, trailer windows, Jack followed. He didn’t broach the subject of Gabriel until after he’d driven out of the trailer court. “Do you have any idea what’s going on?”

“What’d she say?” Jesse hunched over to pull on his boots.

“She said he got into a fight—”

“Usually does when the bastard is home.”

A beat passed before Jack cautiously asked, “When who’s home?”

Silence thickened between them, broken only by the low hum of the radio. Jesse leaned back with his shoulders drawn tight and Jack split his attention between the empty street and Jesse’s sharp frown.

In a quiet, wary tone, Jesse replied, “Gabe’s dad.”

A cold spot formed in the pit of Jack’s stomach as his mind strung together the little bits of information. Every kid had a spat with their parents, be it over curfew, bad grades, annoying siblings, or not being allowed to go out with certain friends. Gabriel was a hot head. An argument with him was a drop of water in the ocean. But Sombra said it was an emergency which implied the fight was something more.

Jack passed a hand over his mouth as the cold sensation spread, clawing into his chest.

Next to him, Jesse sighed and sank against the door. “Look, you didn’t hear this from me, but she ain’t talkin’ ‘bout Gabe havin’ some kinda screamin’ match with his Dad.”

_You just like to fight with me?_

With a startling clarity, it dawned on Jack as to why Gabriel had suddenly become hostile toward him earlier that day. If — if _that_ was going on then —

Jack tightened his grip on the steering wheel while he fought down the bile burning at the back of his throat. Guilt slithered through the clashing emotions churning in his gut. He recalled, vividly, the apologetic expression on Gabriel’s face just before his fist had smashed into his nose.

It still wasn’t an excuse for how Gabriel acted, but Jesse was right, Jack understood it a bit better.

Jack exhaled and loosened his death-grip from the steering wheel. “Where are we going?”

“Well, he either went to fuck someone up or get fucked up,” Jesse mused around the cigarette filter. He began cranking down the window while fishing for a lighter.

“Not in the truck, Jess.”

“Then pull over, for fuck’s sake, I need t’make some calls.”

Jack parked behind a grocery store, hoping to not attract any unwanted attention with Jesse sitting on the back of his bumper, under-aged and aggressively puffing away as he cycled through his contacts. Jack remained in the truck cab, a hand clamped over his mouth as he stared unseeing out the front window. His mind reeled, spinning through his memories like a Rolodex, trying to find some overlooked clue to Gabriel’s troubled home.

Gabriel never said anything. But of course he wouldn’t. No one talked about their families, especially if it wasn’t pleasant. Neither Gabriel or Sombra let on to anything. Just like Jesse never spoke about his utter lack of family. Jack, too, had plenty of shit going in his family that he didn’t talk about, not even to Angela. The daily bullshit of their lives became the accepted norm. Despite knowing something wasn’t right, or fair, they kept their mouth shut.

Why?

Jack struggled to answer the question for himself, let alone Gabriel. Maybe, he thought with a burn of shame, he was reading too far into things, making mountains out of mole hills. Jack had so many questions, but it wasn’t his place to ask. He packed away his mounting distress as Jesse climbed back into the truck, closing the door with a bang.

“Liao sounded pretty far gone, but he said he last remembered being with Gabe at The Depot.”

Who the hell was Liao?

Jack drove, letting Jesse guide him to a large building in the old business district. It’d once been a train station. Tall, grand, but reduced to empty space after the railway had been moved, decades ago, to a better location. A few years back the town council had decided to rent out the building and it quickly became a favored spot for banquets and concerts.

According to Jesse, Lucio, a DJ popular with the college crowd, had rented the space for the next two weekends.

The parking lot was packed with cars despite the late hour. When Jack found a spot and cut the engine, he could hear the music, a constant thumping bass, coming through the walls of his truck. The old windows rattled in the door frame. Trepidation squeezed at Jack’s heart, sending it into a nervous flutter. He stared at the looming, flat faced building. The windows were blacked out, but the open doors — manned by two bouncers — revealed hints of the light show going on inside.

Swallowing the nervous lump in his throat, Jack shifted his attention to Jesse. “Are you sure he’s here?”

Jesse looked up from the text he’d been composing. “If you wanna forget about the shit goin’ on in your life, this is the kinda thing that helps.”

“How do we get in?” Did he _have_ to go in?

“I gotta friend that’ll get us in,” Jesse muttered and resumed texting.

The acclaimed friend showed up ten minutes later, accompanied by several young men wrapped in dark colors and donning a mix of expressions ranging from leers to scowls. As they moved toward the truck, Jack’s fingers itched to lock the doors.

Jesse cranked down his window and, smooth as a silk, called out, “Well ain’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

“Jesse McCree,” A young woman returned his drawl while breaking from the surly pack. Her startling white hair was pulled back, exposing her equally pale skin. Her red eyes, highlighted by thick, dark eye make-up, further accentuated her albinism. She leaned in Jesse’s window and smiled. “Been a while since you called.”

“I’ve been doin’ my best to stay outta trouble.”

“Doesn’t suit you,” she purred.

“I guess not,” Jesse flirted back, “‘cause here I am.”

“And you brought a friend.” The back of Jack’s neck prickled with unease when her attention slid to him. Her red eyes skimmed over him the same way a patient cat considered a cornered mouse. “He’s cute.”

“Don’t make me all jealous now, Ashe.”

She patronized them with a soft chuckle before opening Jesse’s door. “Come on, let’s get you boys into this party.”

Jack joined them, painfully aware of his beat up sneakers and white, night shirt as they approached the doors. He ran fingers through his sleep tousled hair, wishing he’d thought to brush it before leaving the house.

Ashe’s entourage pressed in as they neared the doors. Music throbbed from within, throwing Jack's pulse into a frightened canter. He missed whatever Ashe said to the bouncers, and before Jack could fully wrap his head around the situation, they were moving inside without showing their I.D.s.

The music grew in cadence, deafening Jack’s thoughts. He could feel the bass traveling through the concrete floor, into his shoes, rattling his bones and vibrating in his lungs. A sea of bodies swayed ahead of him with a chaotic ebb and flow. Electronic panels lined the ceiling and pulsed in time with the beat. It filled the room with a switching pattern of colored lights. Soothing waves of blue, calming blooms of greens, then the room would ignite with shades of oranges and reds, burning everyone in a hellish pit as their hands stretched toward heaven.

A stagnant heat pressed against Jack’s skin. The air hung heavy with perspiration and a cloying mix of illicit vices and moving bodies. Cigarettes and booze. Perfume and sweat. Elation and desperation.

Jack took in the room with wide eyes and a quivering stomach, fighting the urge to cross his arms or stuff his hands into his pockets.

Ashe parted from them after brushing Jesse’s cheek with a kiss and slipping her hand into his back pocket.

Jack questioned the exchange with a look, but Jesse ignored it. He grabbed Jack by the arm and dragged him further into the chaotic sea. After scanning the crowd, Jesse leaned close and shouted over the music. “You got your phone?”

Jack nodded numbly.

“I got mine. We’ll split up. Text me if you find him.”

“Wait—” Jack latched onto Jesse’s sleeve, terrified to be left alone.

“You’ll be fine.” Jesse smiled, amused, and patted Jack’s shoulder. “Don’t accept anything from anyone and don’t let anyone kiss you.”

In the darkness, between the flashes of light, Jesse slipped away before Jack could ask what kissing had to do with any of it. _Fuck_. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck. It was too much. He felt — he felt so many things all at once. He looked toward the exit and longed for the feel of the cool, night air on his face.

A new hand caught him and towed him into the sea of bodies. Jack dumbly followed the girl that had spotted him, either due to his idleness or the fact that his shirt glowed under the black lights. Glow sticks circled her wrists and neck; even her teeth seemed to glow when she turned to grin at him like the Cheshire cat. Her generous heels allowed her to meet him eye to eye when she pressed close and twined her arms around his neck. “Dance with me?”

Jack shook his head while tugging at her arms. “I’m looking for my friend.”

“I can be your friend.”

Bathed in red light, the girl’s face warped into something sinister, demonic, and her arms coiled tightly around his neck. Jack dug his fingers into the bend of her elbows and forced her arms off. The lights changed and a soft blue dappled over her hurt expression.

Jack shook his head as he backed away. “I’m sorry, I—”

A gap opened between people and he escaped through it, his heart scrambling and his head screaming.

A field of green, the people bending like stalks of grass in the wind.

Jack pressed on, eager to put distance between him and the girl. He half-heartedly scanned the faces he passed, slowing when he realized in all the noise, motion, and lights, he’d gotten turned around and had lost the direction of the exit.

A sea of blue; drowning, drowning.

Fingers passed along Jack’s bicep, but when he turned he couldn’t tell which hand belonged to who. Again he fled, wading between the flow of bodies. Green. Blue. The music pounded in his head. A cesspool of sweat and noise. Jack didn’t understand the appeal. There were so many bodies and—

“Gabe?”

Jack stopped short when his eyes hinged on the familiar shape. Gabriel was swaying with the music, among people but alone, hips tilting with the beat, lips forming over the words. Jack drew closer, transfixed. Gabriel’s arms raised and his hands slid through the longest strands of his dark hair. In turn, Jack’s eyes traveled down Gabriel’s stretching torso, trailed along the skin left exposed by the black tank top. Along his neck glistening with sweat, over the defined muscles of his shoulders and arms, lingering on the flat plane of his abdomen as the fabric rode up, teasing him with a glimpse of dark skin along the cut of his hip.

Burning, burning in red.

Over the last week, Jack had seen versions of Gabriel he’d never known to exist. The relaxed, playful Gabriel so graceful on the ice. The working, tailored Gabriel at the restaurant, his face handsome in the flickering candle light. This new Gabriel, stripped down and free, sensual and alluring, loosened the vice-like hold Jack kept on his thoughts and wandering eyes.

Jack swallowed and forced his gaze back up to Gabriel's face.

The difference between this Gabriel and the one Jack knew from school was so startling it made him doubt they were the same person. Jack brushed his hand against Gabriel’s elbow, feather light as if afraid of shattering the illusion.

Gabriel sucked in a soft gasp in response to the touch. His eyes flew open, locked on Jack and, without so much as a hello, he closed the gap. One hand settled, warm, on the point of Jack’s hip while the other curled against the back of his neck, pulling him close.

The air fled Jack's lungs. His thoughts ceased. Pressed flush to Gabriel, Jack couldn't distinguish his own racing heart from Gabriel's steady pulse or the thumping bass. A feverish heat clung to Gabriel. His fingertips seared along Jack's skin, leaving the nerves charged and buzzing in their wake.

Gabriel’s pupils were blown wide, reducing the irises to thin, golden rings. He studied Jack’s face up and down, left and right, before smiling with recognition. “Hey, blue.”

 _He’s high_ , Jack surmised, staring back at the wild, blackened eyes. The room faded to a ringing, white noise. Jack’s lips formed over forgotten words. Each intake of breath came with the scent of Gabriel’s earthy cologne. Fall; leaves and spices. Under it lingered the smell of sweat, Gabriel’s musk, and Jack drowned in the intoxicating mix.

His rigor crumbled; he became pliant under Gabriel's wandering fingers. When he found enough air to speak, his voice croaked, “Gabe?”

“Your eyes are so blue.” Gabriel’s focus shifted from one eye to the other, ignorant of the way his fingertips drew small, light circles into Jack’s skin. “Most people have ice-blue eyes, light blue eyes, but you have blue-blue eyes. Bluest blue. Bluey blue.”

“Cornflower blue,” Jack had once been told, and said it in hopes of ending Gabriel’s failed color study.

“A shade of blue shouldn’t be called anything _corn_. Corn is yellow.” Gabriel drew back, his eyes raised up, and his fingers carded through Jack’s hair. “Like your hair.”

Jack’s hands hovered over Gabriel’s hips, torn between the urge to push Gabriel away and the desire to curl his arms around his waist and melt into the touches. His heart fluttered, light and scared, and his eyes fell to a near close as Gabriel leaned closer, almost hugging him, and whispered about the softness of his hair.

Goosebumps raced down Jack’s neck and arms at the feeling of Gabriel’s lips so close to his ear. _He’s high_ , Jack repeated and grounded himself by twisting his fingers into Gabriel’s shirt. But knowing the truth of it didn’t stop Jack from wanting to bury his face into the crook of Gabriel’s neck, to wanting to match the gentle sway of Gabriel’s hips.

He floated in the moment, his nerves singing a riveting melody of heat and lightning. He wanted more. God, he wanted so much more. His fingers tightened in Gabriel’s shirt, clinging to the last shred of his willpower.

“Feels good, doesn’t it,” Gabriel, in a world all his own, hummed and continued combing his fingers through Jack’s hair.

Unable to escape the gravity of his attraction to Gabriel, Jack dipped his chin in a shallow, meek nod.

His emotions quarreled, soaring high with euphoria while also sinking into a tarry pit of shame. A mantra began to take shape and his eyes stung with tears. He shouldn’t be doing this. As good as it felt, as much as he wanted it, he needed to stop it. It was wrong. Jack already knew the consequences of slipping, even just a little, down that slope. It was wrong. It was wrong. _I can’t — I can’t —_

“Blue?”

Jack lifted his head, blinking away the distress, and met Gabriel’s unfocused gaze. What Gabriel saw, Jack couldn’t tell. All he registered was the path of Gabriel’s fingers leaving his hair and tracing along the side of his face; the warmth of Gabriel’s palm against his cheek; the way their noses brushed as Gabriel leaned in, slotting their lips together.

It wasn’t Jack’s first kiss. He’d kissed girls, or been kissed by girls, at least a dozen different times. He’d kissed them back in a way he thought was expected of him. He had moved his lips, his tongue, and felt nothing but a lingering sense of disgust. It was wet and noisy. Jack figured he just didn’t like kissing. He enjoyed the company of a date, but avoided holding hands and sitting too close…

The kiss lingered, light and gentle, not pressing for more. It dissolved to Gabriel lightly brushing his lips over Jack's. The barest of contact. Yet it was enough. Lightning scorched along Jack’s nerves. A demanding heat pooled in his groin. A noise caught in Jack’s throat as he fought against the urge to tangle his fingers into Gabriel’s short hair and pull him in, to deepen the kiss, to explore every avenue of sin offered to him, because, clearly, Jack had been kissing the wrong people all his life.

Gabriel drew back, eyes closed, and his head lolled forward, swaying with the music as he resumed dancing. His arms remained draped over Jack’s shoulders, one hand mindlessly toying with Jack’s hair, continuing on as if the world hadn’t completely tilted off its axis, oblivious to the fact that Jack remained rigid, rooted by a wariness edging toward fear.

“Jack!”

The world crashed into focus, returning with a deafening throb of music, a blinding flash of color, and the dizzying sway of people dancing. 

Jack turned his head in time to watch Jesse’s face emerge from the sea of bodies. Instantly Jack leapt away from Gabriel. “He’s—” he blurted, making an inarticulate gesture at Gabriel. “He’s on something.”

“Yeah, I fig—” Jesse wheezed as Gabriel swept him up in a tight hug. He laughed and rubbed Gabriel’s back. When released, he took Gabriel’s face between both hands and examined his eyes. “Alright, big guy, what’d you take?”

“Mmm.” Gabriel rubbed his cheek against Jesse’s hand like an affectionate cat. “Ask Liao. It’s good; feels good. Want some?”

“Not tonight, Cap.” Jesse patted his cheek. “You gotta come with us, okay?”

“Blue's coming?”

“Blue?" Jesse flicked a questioning look at Jack before an understanding spread across his face in the form of a lopsided grin. "Yeah, ‘course he is.”

Jack shot Jesse an alarmed look as Gabriel closed on him, wrapping one arm around his waist and the other around his neck in an overly intimate hug. Jesse followed, leaning toward Jack to talk over the music. “Pretty sure it's ecstasy, a kind of feel good drug. He's probably gonna be real touchy-feely for a while.”

 _It’s just the drugs,_ Jack told his racing heart and the traitorous heat flooding his body. _It means nothing._

Jesse grabbed Jack’s arm and towed him toward the exit, with Jack came a rather clingy Gabriel.

The night welcomed them as they exited; the cool air a godsend. Jack turned his face toward the faint breeze, but couldn’t ignore how Gabriel slotted against his side like a drunk date. Jack's lips burned with the memory of the kiss and he absently drew the tip of his tongue along the lingering, ghostly sensation.

At the truck, Gabriel refused to part ways and Jack was forced to pass his keys to Jesse.

“Don’t let him fall asleep,” Jesse said as they climbed into the truck, Jack in the middle with Gabriel’s head already resting on his shoulder. “If he passes out, he’s not gettin’ back up again and lemme tell you, that son of a bitch is _heavy_.”

Jack nodded and half-heartedly elbowed Gabriel’s side.

“Normally he crashes at my place when his dad is around.” Jesse pulled out of the parking lot before casting an uncertain glance toward Jack. “But with my mom home, I don’t have a place for him. Think he can stay at your house?”

The blood drained from Jack's face.

“I mean,” Jesse continued. “I’ll stay too, so when he wakes up he doesn’t freak out or nothin’.”

Seeing no other option, Jack sighed, already dreading the conversation he’d have tomorrow with his parents. His mother would be over the moon to have guests, but his father would want them out as soon as possible. “I guess.”

Jesse slowly nodded, the motion odd without the hat to accompany it. He leaned forward, chest pressing to the wheel, to view Gabriel, and shook his head. “I’m serious ‘bout not lettin’ him sleep.”

Jack again nudged Gabriel’s side and when that didn’t work, he shook his arm. “Gabe, hey, you need to stay awake.”

Mumbling in Spanish, Gabriel leaned more heavily against Jack and curled a hand around his thigh. He sought out Jack's eyes before giving his leg a firm squeeze.

Jack squirmed and hastily pushed the hand away while looking at Jesse for a translation.

Jesse stared back at him with bugged eyes and a slack jaw. He split his attention between the road and Jack. “Uh, you don’t speak Spanish, do you?”

“No, what’d he say?” The interested twitch in Jack’s groin had a few, unhelpful suggestions.

Jesse's hand went to his mouth and rubbed over his lips in a contemplative gesture. “He uh, he ain’t mad or nothin’. Just keep him talkin’, I guess, it won’t hurt no one.”

“Talk about what?”

“Christ,” Jesse swore. “Anything, Jack. He’s so far gone I doubt he’ll remember a thing.”

Jack wished he could erase the night from his memory. As it was, his thoughts continued revolving around the touch of Gabriel’s lips, the warmth of his body, the rumbling voice against his ear, and now, the fingers that had slid along the inseam of his thigh a moment ago. It was a complication Jack didn’t need in his life. His father’s stance on homosexuality had been made clear, years ago, when Jack had planted an innocent kiss on the cheek of a boy on the playground. The teachers had made such a fuss and had called his parents in to discuss his inappropriate behavior. The way his father had looked at him, like he was this awful _thing_ , had haunted Jack ever since.

“Azul,” Jack said while half-turning to Gabriel. “That means blue. Verde is green. And uh… rojo is red? I took two years of Spanish and those are the only colors I remember. I think I can still count to ten.”

Gabriel stared at him, a half smile on his lips. The passing streetlights revealed the color in his eyes, a little less black and a touch more gold. Gabriel canted his head to the side and responded, in Spanish, to Jack’s sub-par education.

Fairly sure Gabriel had just patronizingly called him adorable, Jack merely nodded and kept going, “I can say _¿Cómo estás? Muy bien. ¿Y tú?_ ”

Gabriel’s grin grew and Jack couldn’t help but smile in return. He sounded ridiculous, he knew, but if it made Gabriel laugh, the humiliation was worth it.

“There’s.. _Hola, ¿Dónde es la biblioteca?_ Which is dumb, because why would I want to know how to ask where’s the library? _Baño_ , is more practical, except I can’t remember left or right. _Izqui_ — something.”

“ _¿Izquierda?_ ” Gabriel arched a brow.

“That sounds like it, I guess? So I’d be able to ask where something is, but I wouldn't be able to follow the directions.”

His ears were burning under Gabriel’s unfaltering attention, but Jack pressed on. He plucked at his pant leg. “ _Pantalones_.” He pointed at his shoes. “ _Zapatos_.” Lastly he pinched at his shirt. “This is uh…”

“ _Camiseta_ ,” Gabriel supplied.

“Oh, I was going to go with _el shirt-o_.”

Gabriel barked out a laugh and cupped a hand over his mouth, hiding his smile and muffling his words, “ _Muy gracioso_.”

Jack chuckled at him. “What’s that mean?”

“Funny,” Gabriel said, his eyes brimming with laughter. “Very funny.”

“Not uhm.” Jack paused to rake through his memory for a similar phrase. “Muy cómico?”

Gabriel shook his head.

“Damn, muy cómico is easier to say…”

Gabriel leaned forward and Jack sucked in a breath. Nose to nose, Gabriel searched Jack’s gaze, shifting from one eye to the other as he asked, something, in Spanish. Jack missed more than half the words. His head felt fuzzy with cotton, his heart skipped off beat, and a strong, magnetizing pull urged him to close the last bare inch.

A questioning tilt of Gabriel’s head prompted Jack’s thoughts back into motion. He stared at Gabriel’s lips and whispered, “ _Quiero_ means ‘I want’, and I only know that because of those one commercials, with the chihuahua? — _Yo quiero Taco Bell_ — but I have no idea what else you said…”

He wanted to know, but a glance at Jesse revealed nothing. Jesse continued to drive, a strained look on his face as he held the steering wheel with one hand and picked at his lower lip with the other. Jack swallowed, glanced ahead, estimating they still had ten more minutes of driving, then looked back at Gabriel.

“So yeah, that’s the extent of _mi español_.”

The smile Gabriel gave made Jack’s heart somersault into his stomach. He snapped his eyes to the dash, his face unbearably hot. Gabriel’s thighs remained visible in his peripherals, mostly hidden by shadows, and Jack wished he could be daring enough to lay his hand on one. Just one touch; one slide of his palm along the muscle and his fingers curling against the inside, tracing up the stitching of his jeans.

 _Fuck_ , Jack squirmed, his pants uncomfortably tight. He scrambled for a topic to derail the thoughts.

“I never tried out for the hockey team because I can’t skate.”

He wiggled his arm out from between them and rolled up his sleeve to reveal the scar near his shoulder. “I went skating with my cousins, years ago, out on these ponds near the back fields. I had just gotten a pair of skates for Christmas.” He traced a finger over the thin line, stark red against his pale skin. “I fell so hard I broke my humerus and cracked my shoulder blade. They had to use screws to hold it together while it healed.”

Gabriel’s finger followed Jack’s, sliding feather-light over the surgery scar.

“Aw, shit.” Jesse chuckled. “I remember that. You came back from Christmas Break in a cast. Your arm was all stickin’ out like you were constantly tryin’ to lean against a bar.”

“I was so embarrassed,” Jack said, his voice distant, his eyes following Gabriel’s finger as it continued to trace the scar. “I never skated again.”

“What was that, fourth grade?”

Jack failed to answer, at a loss for words when Gabriel bent down and softly kissed the scar. His golden eyes glittered as they flicked up to Jack’s hungry gaze. Gabriel’s lips moved higher, placed another kiss, then another, higher, following the scar. Jack peeked, side-long at Jesse, to see if he had noticed, but Jesse’s attention remained on the dark, country road stretching on ahead of the truck.

Swallowing, Jack pretended like Gabriel’s lips weren’t trekking closer to the side of his neck with each kiss. “Fifth grade,” his voice quavered and he cleared his throat before trying again. “Didn’t get the screws taken out until that summer.”

A shiver ran down Jack’s spine as Gabriel’s lips touched against his fingers, the ones holding up the sleeve. Jack let it continue, hating himself for how he silently begged for Gabriel to keep going; for how he slowly tilted his head away, offering his neck; for how he wanted it so badly he felt like he might burst.

Gabriel’s hand cupped his jaw, pulled him down, and Jack closed his eyes, parted his lips and— "Fuck!" He jerked away from Gabriel.

Jesse’s head snapped around. “What?”

“Pull over.”

“We’re almost there,” Jesse said, frowning.

Jack’s jaw clenched. “Switch places with me.”

“What t’hell is wrong?”

 _Everything_.

Jack struggled to level his breathing. He gripped the dash with one hand, keeping himself turned away from Gabriel. His body ached with need and he didn’t trust himself to not take advantage of Gabriel’s altered state. It played out so vividly in his mind. Himself pushing Gabriel against the door, shoving his tongue into that teasing mouth. His hand delving between Gabriel’s thighs, coaxing Gabriel into the same aroused state Jack currently warred against.

“He’s seriously fucked up,” He pleaded as his fingers dug into the dash. “I can’t do this. _Pull over_.”

“Jack, I’m turning into the drive now, calm down.”

Once parked, Jack clambered out the driver side door and over the loose gravel of the driveway. He reined in his panic long enough to hold the door open for Jesse to walk in a drowsy Gabriel. He gestured to the couches in the living room and fled to the safety of his room where he flung himself, belly down, on his bed.

Mental reels of pornographic tape played behind his eyes. Jack dug his fingers into his scalp until the pain overrode the images. He would _not_ indulge in the perversion. It just needed to _go away_. Repressing it was his only option; always had been. He’d put the night behind him. Forget it ever happened. He’d sleep and in the morning he’d have the issue settled.  


  
**:::**  
_I want to reconcile the violence in your heart  
I want to recognize your beauty is not just a mask  
I want to exorcise the demons from your past  
I want to satisfy the undisclosed desires in your heart_   
**:::**  



	5. I Found - Amber Run

**:::**  
_I'll use you as a warning sign  
That if you talk enough sense then you'll lose your mind_  
**:::**

It wasn’t the wafting aroma of pancakes and bacon that woke Gabriel. Nor was it the gentle murmur of voices or scraping of chairs across wooden floorboards. Instead it was a warm, wet tongue, graciously lavishing attention across his face in long, slimy swipes, which drew him toward wakefulness. It pulled at his lips, slid over his teeth, and left a putrid odor lingering in his nostrils.

Gabriel groaned and, with a struggle, opened his eyes to stare into warm, mahogany eyes framed by black and brown fur.

“Leave him alone, Soldier.”

The German Shepherd looked at someone beyond Gabriel, then rested his head on top of Gabriel’s chest and gave a small, hopeful tail wag.

With another groan, Gabriel sat up and used the inside of his tank top to wipe away the slobber. His mouth felt like cotton and tasted like, well, he didn’t really want to know after making out with a dog. He absently petted the affectionate Shepherd while taking in the unfamiliar living room. Clean, tidy, the walls hung with the right amount of rustic decor. It was a nice change from the usual bottle cluttered living room of the house Liao shared with three other college students. But where—?

The scuff of shoes against floorboards and the soft clink of silverware against plates drew Gabriel’s attention to where the carpet gave way to wood, transitioning from living room to kitchen. Jesse, Jack, and Genji sat at a square table, eating, while a fair-haired woman stood in front of the stove, flipping pancakes.

“Mornin’.” Jesse waved with his fork.

Gabriel had to clear his throat a couple times before he rasped, “Hey.”

The woman turned away from the stove, a smile on her lips and a white apron around her waist. “There’s pancakes, bacon, eggs, and sausages. Also some orange juice and milk to drink. What do you like?”

Rubbing a hand along his stubble, Gabriel stared at her, struck by the surreality of the scene. A little too Stepford Wives for his taste. The longer she smiled, the more uncomfortable he became under the attention. It was like she was looking _through_ him. He glanced away from her blue eyes and surmised, between her looks and the presence of both Jack and Genji at the table, that the woman was Jack’s mother.

He was at _Jack’s_ house.

“Pancakes and bacon are fine,” he said to Mrs. Morrison so she’d stop aiming her thousand watt smile at him.

After loading himself a plate and downing a glass of water, Gabriel narrowed a look on Jesse who continued grinning like an idiot. He’d press Jesse for answers, later, when they were out of the awkward scenario. Until then, Gabriel bided his time, gnawing on a piece of bacon while piecing together last night's events.

He recalled going at it with his father. It always played out like an African wildlife documentary, the one where the adult, male lion chased off the adolescent male lions from the pride. Ever since Gabriel had grown big enough to push back at his father, it had become a point of contention between them.

Gabriel would have moved out, long ago, if not for the danger it posed for his mother. She was too small and forgiving to deal with his father’s drunken tantrums. Gabriel had grown up well aware of the bruises she hid, but he'd been powerless to do anything about it aside from keep Sombra away from the worst of it.

Over the years, the trouble with the police spurred his father to move out. He still showed up from time to time, always drunk and looking to fight, and Gabriel did his best to throw his ass back out of the house. Last night had been no different. When angry words had failed to do the job, the argument had evolved into a shoving match.

Then, when one particular shove had sent Gabriel into the wall, knocking picture frames to the floor, he had grabbed the car keys and stormed out. He’d sent a text to Officer Wilhelm, a man familiar with his family's troubles, and had gone to meet up with Liao. It started out as a means to cool his heels, to wait out the storm, but had changed course when Liao had offered him something to take the edge off. Gabriel had downed it without asking questions and from there his night blurred.

A heavy weight settled on Gabriel's thigh, startling him out of his reverie. He looked down and met with a pleading pair of canine eyes.

“Yer the new guy,” Jesse said. “He’s suckin’ up t’you for scrapes.”

Gabriel slipped the last of his bacon to the dog, much to Jesse’s amusement, and pushed him away. The Shepherd only went as far as the fridge to lay down, maintaining eye contact the whole while. Gabriel grunted at the begging eyes, shook his head — _no more for you_ — and turned his attention to the faces at the table.

Jesse continued to grin, not at anyone in particular but with a goofy happiness of a content child. Knowing Jesse’s family situation (they had bonded over a shared history of shitty parents) Gabriel assumed the novelty of the family breakfast — complete with a hair ruffling, doting mother — was something of a special treat to him.

Across the table sat Genji, face propped against an upturned palm and his hair a disheveled mess of green cowlicks. He teetered on the verge of falling asleep in his pancakes.

Gabriel’s study ended on Jack, his long time nemesis turned gracious host. He looked a lot like his mother; spun gold hair, fair skin, and ocean eyes. Jack avoided his gaze and stared down at the chunk of pancake he pushed around his plate. He looked exhausted, dark crescents bruised the skin under his eyes. It made Gabriel wonder, again, how bizarre last night had played out for him to end up in such unlikely company.

As soon as Mrs. Morrison left the room, saying she needed to check the laundry, Gabriel kicked Jesse’s shin. “Talk.”

“You got in a fight with your da’ and Sombra called him.” Jesse stopped rubbing at his abused leg long enough to gesture at Jack. “And I helped track you down before you could get too fucked up.”

“Oh.”

Only a handful of people at school knew about his situation at home and Gabriel wasn’t sure how he felt about Jack being one of them. He swallowed against the lump in his throat and passed a hand over the humiliation burning in his cheeks. He’d have to ask Jesse how much Jack knew, and scold Sombra for—

“Ah _shit_.” Gabriel dug out his phone and scrolled through the thirty or so text messages from his sister ranging from being pissed off to concerned to death. He shot her a quick text to let her know he was alive and silenced his phone to the bombardment of texts he expected to come in response.

“Thanks.” He glanced between Jesse and Jack. “I appreciate it.”

“I know you’d do the same for me,” Jesse said.

Jack, looking a touch green, flashed him a quick, albeit weak, smile.

“Johnny honey?” Mrs. Morrison returned, taking up station at the sink of morning dishes. “Since you’re not going to church with us, your father said you’re to mend the fences.”

“I have to take them back into town,” Jack protested. “And I was going to meet up with Angela.”

“Can I go?” Genji asked, suddenly awake.

What little color remained in Jack’s tired face, drained. The muscle in his jaw flexed before he answered in an even tone, “No.”

Muttering with displeasure, Genji sunk back down into his chair.

“You know how your father is.” Mrs. Morrison frowned, then the gears shifted and she once again smiled, bright and welcoming. “Maybe your friends can help you get it done faster?”

“Anything to help out, Mrs. Morrison,” Jesse chimed, glowing when she turned that loving smile on him.

Under the table, Gabriel kicked Jesse again. Jesse grunted, but gritted his teeth and kept on smiling. Gabriel wanted to go home, not get roped into doing chores. At least he did until he realized that he couldn’t go home, not until his father left. And, given that he was at Jack’s house and not Jesse’s trailer, meant he didn’t have a place to stay in town. There were other options available to him, couches he could surf, but most of them paled in comparison to this Bed & Breakfast.

Concluding he had to rely on the Morrisons’s generosity, Gabriel settled a thoughtful look on Jack. “Yeah, we’ll help out ‘Johnny’.”

And damn if Jack didn’t color up like a flower in response to the name.

After breakfast, Genji slunk off to his room and Gabriel followed behind Jack and Jesse as they loaded the bed of Jack’s truck with unfamiliar tools and a spool of barbed wire. He watched, hands stuffed in his pockets, feeling awkward and useless, and hunched his shoulders against the autumn morning chill. He’d started the night off with another shirt and a jacket, but all he had now was the black tank top that did little to warm his torso.

Jack went back inside and Gabriel advanced on Jesse. “I can’t remember shit about last night. Was it bad?”

“Well,” Jesse said, leaning against the truck while bringing a fresh cigarette to his lips. “Your face wasn’t busted up and you popped molly instead of hitting the hard liquor, so I’d say it wasn’t that bad.”

“Jack keeps giving me weird looks and — what the fuck, is his name John or Jack?”

“He’s a John Junior.” Jesse flicked the wheel of his lighter a couple times, producing only sparks. He removed the unlit cigarette and wiggled it between his fingers as he peered at Gabriel. It was a thoughtful, searching look but, failing to find whatever he was looking for, Jesse shrugged. “You were pretty fuckin’ high last night. You probably just weirded him out.”

 _Alright_ , Gabriel thought while rubbing at the goosebumps on his arms. Dismissing the whole night as a one off incident of weird worked for him. The most of what he could remember involved colors. Reds, greens, and a vivid blue, sparking like an ocean. The vague memory echoed with euphoria, prickling along his nerves in memory of the zen-like high.

Determined to put the night behind him, Gabriel focused on the other line of conversation. “When did we start calling him Jack?”

“Grade school, when he started tellin’ everyone it was his name.”

Gabriel struggled to remember his younger years in the same way he couldn’t quite piece together his night. The memories were there, but hesitant to come forward. Usually all he remembered of his childhood were the bad times; the feeling of being small, helpless, and nursing a growing pit of resentment toward his father.

He didn’t remember much about Jack, other than he seemed to turn up like a bad penny. And, well, in fourth grade when the Children’s Theater had rolled through town, Gabriel had tried out for the play, among thirty other kids, but although he put all his heart and soul into getting one of the big roles, the director had given it to Jack Fucking Morrison who was so goddamn sub par. And Gabriel? He got to be one of four urchins and had a total of two lines.

He’d held a grudge against Jack for a couple years after that, but he didn’t hate him. Not really. The whole affair had taught Gabriel that he had to work twice as hard for the things he wanted in life. He scraped and strived for every damn thing while Jack just coasted along; good grades, the picturesque family, the peppy blonde girlfriend—

Jack returned with Soldier padding alongside him. In one hand he carried a rifle and in the other he held a blue hooded sweatshirt which he tossed to Gabriel.

Surprised, but grateful, Gabriel dove inside the sweater. He snuggled into the cotton, soft as a puppy’s fluff and smelling faintly of cologne. He drew the hood up to shield his neck and ears from the wind and curiously watched as Jack placed the rifle into the truck cab.

“Are you expecting to run into trouble out there, John?”

“Don’t call me that.” Jack shot him a look. “Coyotes got my other dog over the summer. If I see one, I’m going to shoot it.”

“That’s allowed?”

A hesitance lined Jack’s movements as he turned around. He searched Gabriel’s face in the same manner Jesse had earlier. Bit by bit the tension eased from his shoulders. “It’s rural land out here, our property, and they’re varmints. So yeah, I’m allowed to shoot them.”

“Awesome.”

Jack shifted his weight while his bluey-blue eyes darted elsewhere. “You ever shoot?”

“Nope.” The people Gabriel knew who owned guns tucked them into the waist bands at the small of their backs and didn’t carry them with the casual familiarity Jack showed with the rifle.

Jack rubbed at the back of his neck. “You want to learn?”

The offer caught Gabriel by surprise. The words were sincere, even if Jack wouldn’t meet his eyes. Despite everything, Jack continued to extend an olive branch like everything could be so easy. Gabriel had half a mind to refuse, but caved to his sense of intrigue. “Sure.”

Jack flashed him a shy smile and climbed into the truck. Gabriel stared after him while running a hand over his lips, puzzled by the peculiar behavior.

They headed out into the fields in various states of silence. Jesse, not allowed to smoke in the truck, stared out the window while chewing on his thumb nail. Jack drove with a pensive frown and a thoughtful crease along his brow. Gabriel sat in the middle, quiet because he felt wildly out of place.

Beyond the glass, field after field passed by as the truck jostled along the dirt road.

Unease prickled at the base of Gabriel's neck. The misplaced feeling only grew worse when the work started. What Jack and Jesse did, with a familiarity that made Gabe’s chest constrict with annoyance, was not something he would classify as a chore. A chore was dishes, laundry, picking up a room, or vacuuming a carpet. Repairing the broken sections of fence was work and it troubled Gabriel that no one was getting paid for it.

Jack had chuckled when Gabriel said as much.

After an hour, the three of them sat on the tailgate of Jack’s truck with Soldier lying under their feet. They shared one of Jesse’s cigarettes, passing it back and forth in silence. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky and the silvery blue expanse stretched on forever. It was quiet, save for the rustling of tall grass when the wind bustled by; peaceful in a way Gabriel only experienced when he skated.

Movement caught Gabriel’s attention and he pointed at the far end of the field.

“Coyote,” Jack said, having seen the same flash of tawny fur.

It skirted the edge of the field, nose low to the ground, then froze when it noticed them. When none of them made a move to chase it off, it resumed its lazy lope, heading away from them.

Gabriel glanced side long at Jack. “I thought you said you were going to shoot it.”

“Thought about it.” Jack flicked the cigarette nub into the dirt. “Didn’t feel right.”

“Jack’s not so sympathetic to doves or gophers,” Jesse said.

With a grunt, Jack slid off the tailgate. “Gophers tear up the field and roads, and you can eat doves.”

“Aren’t doves like pigeons?” Gabriel asked, his lip lifting in disgust.

“ _No_. Well, yes, but they’re different.” Jack met Gabriel’s disbelief before pressing on, “They _are_. Stop looking at me like that — they taste good!”

“Ew.”

“Fuck off.” Jack looked away, but it didn’t hide the flush on his cheeks. “I’m going to make you eat dove.”

Gabriel scoffed, “And how are you going to manage that?”

One of Jack’s shoulders lifted in a shrug as he continued to gaze across the field. “You’re staying at my place, right?”

Again Gabriel found it difficult to answer as his chest tightened in response to Jack’s unquestioning kindness. Stare as he might at Jack’s profile, Gabriel couldn’t find the strings attached to the gesture. It grated on his pride to accept the help, but he returned the nonchalant shrug. “Only for a couple days, if it’s okay with your folks.”

“Why not?” Jack pulled on his work gloves before motioning toward Jesse. “We house him all summer.”

“That’s different—” Gabriel bit off the argument, annoyed by Jack’s determination to let their history of grievances pass like water under a bridge. A fresh slate sounded nice. Gabriel doubted it’d work out but, at least for a couple days, he would play along with it. He owed Jack that much.

He started again, “That’s different, because he’s a mooch.”

“My mom loves him.”

“That’s ‘cause I’m more adorable than you,” Jesse chimed in before tossing his work gloves to Gabriel.

Jack snorted and grabbed the fence stretcher off the tailgate and headed toward the broken section of wire. Gabriel glanced down at the gloves he’d caught, then over to Jesse’s grinning face, not pleased at being volunteered. He wiggled his hands into the gloves and grabbed the other tools he’d seen being used.

“Are you sure—” Gabriel began, but Jack cut him off.

“My mom likes having other kids in the house.” Jack worked as he spoke, crimping a section of new barbed wire with the old before lining both ends into the stretcher. “It’s nice, really, because she’ll cook breakfast for everyone. Usually I have to fend for myself in the mornings and I end up eating toast.”

Gabriel held the crimping tool while Jack tightened the wires together, demonstrating that his strength had nothing to do with milking cows; just plain hard work.

“So you’re a lousy cook?”

Jack paused long enough to shoot him a sly grin. “I can cook dove.”

“Na-uh, I’m not eating pigeon so you just keep to your toast, _John_.”

They continued working in an agreeable silence until Gabriel, stepping into one of the aforementioned gopher holes, tripped into the fence and sliced open his arm. It was hardly worth the fuss, but Jack dropped everything to pull him over to the truck and push up his sleeve. While Jesse snickered, Jack tended to the long cut with a first aid kit from under the seat.

“Angela insisted I keep one in the truck,” Jack said when Gabriel had raised a questioning brow.

Gabriel wanted to tease Jack about his girlfriend, but the words eluded him. The gentle touch along his arm, and the soft expression on Jack’s face, distracted him. He did not understand Jack Morrison. After all the years of quarreling, it baffled Gabriel to be treated so tenderly. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone, aside from a nurse or a doctor, had treated his injuries.

He looked away, uncomfortable with it all, and focused on the L-shaped tear in the bunched up sleeve. It wouldn’t take much to stitch it back together. He’d borrow his mother’s sewing supplies and mend it when he got the chance.

After bandaging the worst of the cut, Jack drove them back to the farm where they put away the tools and locked Soldier in his kennel. They headed into town; a twenty minute drive with only the radio to keep the silence at bay. It took another fifteen minutes to find where Gabriel had left his mom’s car.

“So I’ll hang out with Jesse for now,” Gabriel said to Jack through the lowered window.

Jack brushed at the dust on his dash, nodding to Gabriel’s words. “I’m going to hang out with Angela anyway.”

“I have to get the car back to my mom.” Everything felt so out of sync, like every step he meant to take to go around Jack, brought them crashing together instead. “I’ll need to get some clothes and school stuff, but if I text you, will you come pick me up?”

“Yeah, of course.”

Gabriel folded his arms over the door and peered at Jack, bothered by the awkward tension. He couldn’t place his finger on the cause, but Jack’s behavior — ducking his head, dodging his looks, and fidgeting — made Gabriel all that more aware of the change. Whatever weirdness that had happened last night would fade. Or so Gabriel hoped, because he didn’t know how to act in response to this shy version of Jack.

He flicked Jack’s arm. “So why ‘Jack’?”

Those blue eyes finally turned toward him, questioning him, before zipping back to the truck’s dashboard. “What do you mean?”

“The name, is it your middle name?”

“No.” Jack smiled as he picked at the steering wheel cover. “It’s — It’s stupid.”

“While I agree that your name is stupid,” he trailed off, waiting to earn another, fleeting glance of those expressive eyes. He spared Jack a smirk, to emphasis the jest, then prodded him again. “Tell me.”

“Maybe another time.” Jack nudged Gabriel’s arms off the door. “I need to get going.”

Disappointed, but determined to needle Jack about it later, Gabriel backed off, waved, and headed to his own car. Jesse was already in the passenger seat, his eyebrows raised and his mouth set in a thin line as he stared at Gabriel. Ignoring the look, Gabriel buckled in, turned on the car, and set his hand on the gear shift before growling, “What?”

“You tell me.”

Gabriel’s eyes narrowed. “What the fuck is that suppose to mean?”

Jesse began shaking his head. At first it started as a small shake of disbelief, but grew into a full side to side swing that leaned toward vexation.

“If you got something to say,” Gabriel pressed with a level tone, “then spit it out.”

A puffing scoff halted Jesse’s shaking head. He looked over Gabriel once more before shaking his head, again, but in dismissal. “Let’s just say yer real lucky Jack doesn’t understand Spanish.”

Gabriel’s heart cartwheeled and his palms felt damp where they curled around the steering wheel. Gabriel raked his memory for an explanation, but found nothing. The only thought to surface was a joke about Jack being able to count to ten.

Whatever had transpired last night, it couldn’t have been anything bad because Jesse was back to grinning. It must have been something embarrassing, something Jesse wanted to hold on to as blackmail. Nothing detrimental, nothing so changing to cause any harm. In a few days, it'd be forgotten.

**:::**  
_And I found love where it wasn't supposed to be_  
_Right in front of me  
Talk some sense to me_  
**:::**


	6. Silver Lining - First Aid Kit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A special mid-week update for these troubling quarantine times.  
> <3
> 
> * * *

:::  
_I don't want to wait anymore I'm tired of looking for answers  
Take me some place where there's music and there's laughter_  
:::

Jack was a bundle of nerves by the time he slid into the booth seat across from Angela. The jittery energy leaked from him, shaking his hands and shifting his legs. His eyes roved the diner with a frantic energy as the spool of anxiety, usually wound so tight in his chest, unraveled and spilled over his composure. He was falling apart on the inside and his heart wouldn’t stop its high stepping canter.

“What took so long?” Angela asked, not raising her head from the homework she had strewn over the table. The remains of her breakfast and iced coffee sat on the edge of the table, waiting for the waitress to whisk them away. “Your texts this morning made it sound like the world was ending.”

The blood drained from Jack’s face as his lips parted, but the words lodged in his throat like a knife. He made a series of stalling noises while his fingers began straightening the mess of papers.

The fidgeting drew Angela’s gaze upward. She peered at him from over a delicate pair of glasses, the ones she only used for reading when she didn’t want to bother with contacts. Her hair was disheveled, but corralled into a bun at the back of her neck. She wore a gray sweatshirt over black leggings and looked comfortable, as if she never intended to leave the house. But since Jack had insisted on meeting up, she’d dutifully slipped on a pair of flats and had claimed their favored booth at a diner Angela preferred for the large tables while Jack liked it for the fact that his parents never ate there.

She removed her glasses and set them aside along with her pencil. When she again looked at Jack, her brows slanted with worry. “Jack?”

“I’m uh…” he continued to tidy up the table until Angela draped her hands over his, forcing him to crash head long with the topic he’d been avoiding. “I’m gay.”

The shame he felt in admitting it, verbally, sent the room spinning. If not for Angela’s light grip on his hands, he might have raced out of the diner to get away from what he’d just said.

“Okay?”

He’d just admitted his deepest, darkest secret, and yet Angela sounded as if she expected to be told something more mind blowing. The information didn’t hit her the same way it devastated him. It completely uprooted his world in one sweeping landslide, destroying everything he’d worked so hard to build.

She patted his hands before withdrawing her arms. “How long have we been friends?”

“Kindergarten?”

With a nod, she continued, “Do you remember, in like fourth grade, we tried kissing and it felt weird?”

His face contorted at the memory. “You’re like my sister, it _was_ weird.”

“And do you remember when you dated that girl in seventh grade?”

 _Kelly_ , his memory offered up the girl’s name even though Jack would rather forget it ever happened. His lips twisted into a frown. “Yeah, for like a month.”

“Why do you think you broke up?”

As far as Jack remembered, Kelly had ended it, not him. She had confronted him, face red with frustration, and had laid out all the things that made him a terrible boyfriend. He wouldn’t hold her hand when they walked, he wouldn't let her kiss him at the lockers, and he seemed interested in everything but her. In hindsight, she had probably been hoping he’d fix his erring ways, but he’d taken her words at face value and had accepted, with great relief, that the relationship was over.

Showing physical affection, at least for him, had been a tedious chore. Smiling emptily, his skin crawling whenever they touched, putting on a show when his heart wasn’t behind the performance. It wasn’t until a couple years later Jack allowed himself to be bullied into the company of another girl. She’d convinced him back to her house where, behind her closed bedroom door, they’d fooled around.

By Jack’s account, it hadn’t been an experience worth noting, and it couldn’t even hold a candle’s flame worth of comparison to the electricity that had danced along his nerves when Gabriel had held him close. The scorching desert heat when their skin met. The goosebumps shivering down his spine at the sound of Gabriel’s rumbling voice singing quietly with music. Gabriel’s lips pressing against—

Jack pinched his brow to stave off the wandering thoughts. “What are you getting at?”

Angela shook her head at him, smiling like a patient mother. “That I’ve always had the feeling that you didn’t like girls.”

“How could you know? I didn’t know until — I didn’t know — I didn’t — “

But he did. Deep down, repressed to avoid his father’s ire, Jack knew his gaze lingered too long on other guys. He’d glossed over it, telling himself he was just appreciating a good looking guy in the same way he could admire a beautiful girl. He knew the difference in how his heart somersaulted backwards whenever a cute guy gave him more than a passing moment of attention.

“You’re a good looking guy, Jack. I’ve watched so many girls parade themselves in front of you and it’s like you don’t even see them. We do everything together — you went to _prom_ with me last year after I complained about wanting a platonic date. _Jack_.” Her smile sagged at the corners. “If you were straight, we would be, or would have been, an item.”

Her hands found his and gently squeezed his trembling fingers. “Don’t beat yourself up about this, I know how your dad is—”

“He’ll kill me,” Jack said, paling at the thought of his father finding out. Maybe not murder him, in the physical sense, but Jack would be dead to him either way. Darkness crept inward from the corners of his vision as his heart raced away. Jack gripped the edge of the table as the world tilted like the deck of a ship being tossed around by a storm. “I can’t— I can’t—”

“Jack, stop. You’re overthinking this. What if—”

The rest of her words were drowned out by the blood pounding in his ears. He hunched over the table, feeling faint, and hugged his arms around his head. Angela slid in next to him, laid her head on his shoulder and rubbed at his back. She talked on, not understanding the weight of his father’s judgment. His father had expectations of him and, ever since Ben died, so much more had been placed on Jack’s shoulders and there was no wiggle room to mess up.

His mind reeled back to the third grade, sitting in the principal’s office while his father glared at him with hateful disappointment. Things had never been the same after that, despite Jack’s effort to be nothing less than the perfect son. Now the facade had cracked, revealing the hollowness on the inside, and Jack felt torn between trying to mend the crack — resuming his life guided by his father’s expectations — or forsaking it all.

“What am I going to do?” he asked.

Gently she shook his shoulder. “First, you’re going to tell me who caught your eye.”

He lifted his head and gave her a flat look.

“Oh come on.” She grinned. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting to talk about boys with you?”

Irritated, Jack could do little but glower at her in return. Talking about boys would not solve the problem. It ignored the very real possibility of him getting disowned, kicked out of his home, or sent away to a bible thumping correction camp to pray away the gay. It was very much a crisis for him, not an opportunity to giggle about which boys they found cute.

“Fine, you don’t have to tell me _who_ it was, but at least tell me how it happened?”

Against his will, his mind brought up images of Gabriel’s dark skin, glistening with sweat, his muscular arms drawing him closer, his intense golden eyes gazing at him as if he were the most interesting thing in the world, the brush of lips trailing up along— Jack felt nauseous as his mind warred for different interpretations of the images. Feeling both attracted to Gabriel and disgusted with himself for the same thing pushed Jack to teeter on the cusp of a break down.

“A guy kissed me,” he whispered, shoving the words out in hopes they’d alleviate the turmoil swelling on the inside.

Angela’s expression brightened. “Was it amazing?”

At first, when Jack couldn’t think beyond the feel of those lips against his, it had been beyond amazing. A sun cresting the horizon after a cold, bleak night. And for one brief moment, Jack felt at peace with himself, relaxed and happy. Then reality had settled in and poisoned the experience. It left him in the dark, alone and empty.

But now he had a taste of the light, had felt it caress his skin and warm his soul, and he couldn’t stop thinking about the next time.

Angela expected an answer and Jack hastily replied, “It was eye opening.”

Her brown eyes grew with excitement. “Did you know him? Where were you? How did it happen? Are you going to see him again? Do I get to meet him?”

Jack lifted his hands to ward off her prying questions. He scrambled for a lie to sate her curiosity but also deter her from digging for more information. “It was a one time thing.”

“What do you mean?”

“It was a joke — he kissed me as a joke.”

Considering Gabriel had been high and likely didn’t mean to kiss him, it might as well have been a cruel joke. When Gabriel didn’t appear to remember a thing in the morning, it was a blessing in disguise, even if it had hurt that the whole thing had been too insignificant to remember. Gabriel was oblivious while Jack had to deal with the unwanted feelings slowly constricting the air from his lungs.

“Oh.” Angela pouted at him. “That’s not fair.”

Jack shrugged, but agreed with the sentiment. With Gabriel staying at his house for the next few days, Jack wasn’t sure how to deal with the mess in his heart.

“But listen,” Angela words flew out, teaming with unbridled excitement. “I have this friend—” Dread settled in Jack’s gut like a cold slab of stone. “—I met him over summer at a workshop class. He goes to a different school. He’s cute, smart, and—”

“He’s gay,” Jack finished for her while shaking his head in disbelief. “I’m barely coming to terms with this and you already have a potential boyfriend lined up for me?”

She had the decency to blush at the fact she’d overstepped her bounds. “Well, maybe you two can just talk. He had to go through the whole coming out thing, so he can relate to what you’re feeling.”

Her gaze skated away from his and she began gathering her supplies, stacking them into a neat pile before pulling up her book bag from under the table. Jack watched, knowing her too well, knowing she wasn’t telling him something. His eyes narrowed. “Did you two talk about me?”

“I may have said something about you to him.” Angela’s shoulders hunched, her gaze remained low, and her hand slowed as it hovered over her phone. “And I might have shown him your picture.”

“Why would you do that?” Jack gawked at her..

Flashing him a weak, apologetic smile, Angela picked up her phone. “I can show you his picture to make things even?”

“I can’t believe you would do that, what if it got back to my dad?”

“I just want to help.”

“Well—” Jack bit off the snarling comment he’d been about to spit at her. He didn’t doubt her intentions, and he knew he shouldn’t hold it against her. She was a good friend, even if she had no real grasp on the consequences of her actions. To her, failure and mistakes were passing events, something to learn from before trying again, or just another problem to solve. She didn’t understand the risk, or the fact that once he headed down that road, there were no do-overs, there was no ‘fixing’ things.

Disinclined to keep arguing about it, Jack sighed and decided to humor her. “What’s his name?”

“Vincent. His name is Vincent.”

* * *

“ _Fuck_ — I hate you.”

Jack’s jogging pace slowed to a stop as Gabriel halted, again, to hunch over and suck in air.

After two heaving breaths, Gabriel spat at the ground. He groaned and leaned against the concrete wall separating the football field from the bleachers. His hands pressed into his side to alleviate the stitch he’d been fighting since the first lap around the oval track.

The rest of the Spartan team, sans a few members who couldn’t summon up the energy to arrive at school bright and early Monday morning, plodded dutifully around the track. All except Gabriel who had not stopped complaining since Jack woke him up at 6 am, informing him that not only did they have to leave early to make the drive into town for school, they had to leave even earlier to train with the team.

“I fucking hate you.” Gabriel tilted his head back against the cool concrete and tiredly glared. “Screw you and your — your — just, fuck you.”

Amused by Gabriel’s colorful pouting, Jack smirked. “For an athlete, you sure seem out of shape.”

Gabriel made a motion, like he wanted to flip off Jack, but his hand just fluttered about like a confused butterfly. “I skate, I do weights, I don’t _run_. Sprint, yes, but run, no.”

Jack folded his arms behind his head and stretched side to side, trying not to smile too broadly at Gabriel’s feeble excuse. Jack had been struggling all morning to not grin like a loon. Even while telling himself they could only ever be friends on a temporary basis, it didn’t stop the little thoughts from sneaking to the forefront of his mind. Thoughts about how cute Gabriel looked when he was being grumpy. How good the undercut hairstyle looked on him. Even something as mundane as seeing Gabriel stretch before running had been a silly delight.

Jack had it bad and knew it. He’d seen some of his peers act in the most ridiculous way because of a crush, and now he knew how all-consuming it was to experience first hand. Everything Gabriel did became something to worship; the way he brushed his teeth, the way he wore his backpack over one shoulder, the way he smiled when no one was looking. It was maddening.

“Where do you even find shorts like that — the toddler section?” Gabriel asked while eyeing Jack's legs.

Hoping his face was already flushed from running, Jack tucked his chin toward his chest as more heat pooled into his cheeks. The shorts in question only went down to the middle of his thighs and were a hair’s breath away from being overly snug. Jack tugged at the hem. “It’s easier to run when there isn’t a bunch of fabric getting caught around your legs.”

When Jack’s gaze shifted to eye Gabriel’s loose gym shorts, Gabriel scoffed, “Don’t even think about it.”

Far too late for that, Jack shrugged while imagining the sight of Gabriel in proper running shorts, exposing so much of his thighs.

Hana jogged passed, looking haggard but determined. Jack planted his hands on his waist, again curbing the urge to grin. “At this rate, even Mako is going to catch up.”

“Fuck you.”

“At least start walking.” Jack beckoned with his hand for Gabriel to leave the sanctuary of the wall. “Stopping only makes it worse.”

“Stop being rational and let me hate you in peace,” Gabriel groused, but pushed off the wall and plodded forward.

Together they walked a quarter of the track before Mako, chest heaving, his shirt drenched with sweat, trudged by at a pace only a touch faster than their walk. Jamison was at his side, his knees popping high as he jogged in place beside his large companion.

“Look at us! Passing the big boss boys!” If possible, Jamison’s knees seemed to reach higher as he cheered Mako on. “We’ve got this!”

Gabriel shook his head, but waited for them to get far enough ahead before muttering, “I swear that kid is huffing paint.”

Hiding a chuckle behind a hand, Jack quietly said, “I’m thinking Asperger’s.”

“He’s definitely on the spectrum somewhere.” Gabriel continued to rub at the ache in his side. “And Mako is going to have a heart attack if he keeps this up. We need to cut him, because if he keels over, I’m out a goalie for the year.”

“He doesn’t want to quit.”

“Sometimes you just have to be mean, Jack, because people don’t always know what’s best for themselves.”

“In that case,” Jack said with a smirk and began increasing his pace. “I want you to know that, at this point, _you_ are in last place.”

Gabriel’s eyes widened and his nostrils flared as he chased after Jack.

* * *

By lunchtime, everyone had recovered from the early morning run and, because they were all from different grades, the cafeteria table became their unanimously agreed upon meeting spot.

At first Jack had found it strange and overwhelming to have anyone other than Angela and Genji sitting at what he deemed his table. It started with the two freshmen girls, Sombra and Hana, who split their time between playing games on their phones and discussing various video games in a heated exchange that eventually drew Genji into the debate.

Lena, fellow track team member and popular among her sophomore peers, made it a point to stop by for a chorus of hellos and friendly jests before she whisked off to another table, repeating the gesture at several different spots around the cafeteria.

Jamison, a peculiar addition to the table, didn’t seem interested in any of the conversations unless it veered close to the subject of engineering. When it did, it was as if a light had suddenly been turned on, Jamison would display a savant-like intelligence toward anything mechanical. Jack learned, from listening to Jamison and the muttering around him, that Jamison’s father owned the local scrap yard and Jamison could often be found scouring the yard for pieces to build his latest experiments.

The hockey goalie, Mako, didn’t talk much. If Gabriel’s negative comments were any clue, Jack had the impression the hockey team didn’t treat Mako all that well. Quiet and lacking a smile, Mako appeared to have taken on the role of guardian, or older brother, to Jamison. Or he just didn’t have the energy to detach Jamison from his side.

On the opposite end of the table, far away from Mako and his penchant for scarfing down anything and everything put in front of him, sat Satya with her home-made lunches. Healthy, vegetarian, and so very judgmental of how everyone conducted themselves. It was a wonder why she sat with them at all. Jack couldn’t get a read on her. She either had a very dry sense of humor, or no humor at all, because sometimes when she said something amusing, he’d laughed, and she’d look at him as if he'd spat in her lunch.

Jack was just considering whether or not to react to her latest sharp-tongued quip when Gabriel and Jesse joined them.

Heart stumbling, Jack instantly looked across the cafeteria, to where the hockey team sat. Gabriel always sat there, not at Jack’s table, and the shift in dynamics did not go unnoticed. As if a flood light had suddenly snapped on, centering on Jack’s table, Akande’s attention honed on them.

A sharp kick to the ankle jerked Jack's attention back to the people around him.

“You’re not listening,” Gabriel huffed, oblivious to the social faux pas he’d committed by sitting with them. “I have practice after school, then work, so I’ll get a ride by someone from work so you don’t have to come back into town.”

“I don’t mind.”

“No one likes a forty minute round-trip.”

“But—”

“No,” Gabriel threatened Jack with the point of his fork. “You’ve done enough.”

Unsure how to take the statement, Jack leaned toward the idea of spending as little time as possible with Gabriel, especially alone. Even that morning, brushing past him at the bathroom door, had been enough to set Jack’s nerves on fire. He had spent the next five minutes hyper aware of the scent of Gabriel lingering in the bathroom. Jack had bit down on his knuckle to prevent his thoughts from straying, to recalling how Gabriel had smelled dancing so close—

“Reyes?”

The sound of Akande’s deep voice silenced the table. Everyone, except for Gabriel, looked warily at Akande.

Gabriel started in on his lunch, taking his time chewing over a bite before saying, “What do you want?”

“Surely this is a joke.”

“What is?” Gabriel turned just enough to arch a questioning brow at Akande.

In turn, Akande raised his own brow and slowly looked over the oddball group, the judgment clear on his face. None of them were good enough. They were losers. Misfits. As much as Jack wanted to let it roll off his shoulders, because he couldn’t care less what Akande thought of him or his friends, Jack’s stomach still tied into knots as he waited for Gabriel's response.

“Why don’t you sit with us?” Akande said, motioning to the watching hockey team.

Gabriel squinted in a mock show of confusion. “Last time I checked, you all could take a piss without me holding your dicks."

"Really now, Gabriel."

"If you want to talk, we can talk at practice.”

Akande laughed, a low and mocking sound that conveyed an underlying annoyance. He turned, but stopped as his gaze landed on Satya. His posture softened, and in a gentler voice he asked, “Have you considered my proposal?”

Satya canted her head as she considered the question. Her frosty veneer put Gabriel’s aloofness to shame as she lifted a thin eyebrow at him. “Did you think coming over here and bullying us would tip the odds in your favor?”

Akande’s lips thinned and he walked off without another word.

“Proposal?” Sombra pounced on the stunned silence. “Did he ask you to marry him?”

“Heavens no,” Satya lightly scoffed while clearing off the table in front of her. “He asked me to the Winter Formal.”

Sombra’s jaw dropped. “I thought he was dating Amélie.”

“Their lover’s spat is none of my concern.”

The crumbs of information were tormenting Sombra. She leaned forward, almost crawling on to the table to get closer to Satya. “So have you told him no?”

“I have no intention of saying yes.”

“But you still haven’t told him _no_.”

Satya’s lips quirked, flashing the table the briefest of smirks. The expression smoothed into nonchalance and she carefully set a closed binder in front of her before answering, “I may still be annoyed at Amélie; we were lab partners and she refused to do any of the work.”

A shine of respect spread across Sombra’s face, and she slowly sank back down in her seat. “So you’re stringing along her sugar daddy? Oh _girl_ , you are vicious, I _like_ you.”

“As you should,” Satya replied and opened the binder, revealing the meticulously constructed time schedule. Labeled, color coded, and consisting of everyone’s weekly activities spanning all the way up to Christmas Break. “Now, if we could officially decide on a practice schedule?”

Jack smiled, oddly content with his unexpected group of friends.

* * *

The desk in Jack’s room was situated near the window that looked out over the drive leading up to the house from the country road. If Jack leaned to the side, he could monitor the traffic. The late hour and the rural location of the road lessened the number of passing cars, which only made the occasional flash of headlights more noticeable. As each traveling pair of headlights neared the drive, Jack’s chest constricted and didn’t ease again until the car had passed.

It was nearing ten o’clock and Gabriel had yet to make it back to the farm. Jack tapped his pencil against his finished math homework, an attempt to distract himself from worrying thoughts about Gabriel’s absence. Gabriel could have lost his ride, could have decided to go to his own house, could have gone out with _Liao_. Whatever the reason, Jack wished Gabriel would at least send him a text to let him know the plan and whether or not he needed to drive into town.

Jack glanced toward the cot set up on the other side of the room. It served as a temporary bed for Genji while Gabriel used the spare room. But Genji was currently using the room to Skype with Hanzo and likely wouldn’t be done until close to midnight, which meant Gabriel had to either use the cot, or sleep on the couch.

Light refracted off the window and Jack leaned to the side, catching a glimpse of a car coming up the drive. His heart fluttered. Gravel crunched as the car eased to a stop. The engine gently purred in the quiet. A door creaked open, shut, and voices were heard before the car reversed, then drove back out to the road.

The screen door squeaked when it opened and the storm door closed with a firm thud. Gabriel’s steps were unhurried as they passed over the wooden floor of the entryway, shushing as he reached the carpet in the hall. Jack listened as Gabriel passed by his room. A door further down the hall opened, voices murmured, then the steps returned to Jack’s door.

Gabriel gently rapped his knuckles against the door before opening it. He leaned against the frame and wearily looked in. “Genji is using the room to talk to someone called ‘ _hand soap_ ’?”

“Hanzo,” Jack corrected with a faint grin. “His brother, it’s like eleven in the morning or something there. Hanzo calls in between his college classes to check up on Genji.”

Gabriel grunted, “Can I hang out in here? I don’t want to creep out your parents by sitting in the dark.”

Nodding, Jack made a small motion at the cot in a wordless explanation. Outright offering the bed to Gabriel might imply he wanted Gabriel in his room. Alone. He did. And didn't.

Jack turned away and traced over the numbers of his finished homework, but the distinct sound of a belt unlatching ended the ruse. A paralyzing fork of lightning shot through him, pooling like molten iron in his groin. Slowly Jack turned his head and glanced, from the corners of his eyes, at the sight of Gabriel stripping down. Shoes off, uniform shirt shucked aside, and his belt and fly undone. He flopped down on Jack's bed with a tired groan.

 _Fuck._ Jack snapped his gaze forward, to the wall, while his imagination ran rampant. _Fuck, fuck, fuck._ In the ghostly reflection of the window, Jack watched as Gabriel made himself comfortable _in his bed_.

Jack gnawed on the end of his pencil, spellbound by the reflection.

As he watched, Gabriel’s doppelganger pulled up his tank top and ran a hand down his chest. Jack's mouth went dry and the pencil dropped from his hand. It bounced off the desk and rolled across the carpet as Jack gaped at the window. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. Slowly Jack twisted around, convinced he was misinterpreting the reflection in the window. It was a trick of the light, a hallucination.

No, on his bed, his crush was half naked.

Jack gawked.

His eyes slowly raked down Gabriel's torso, drinking in the hard lines and flat planes. The gorgeous brown skin. _He’s so fucking beautiful_. Jack’s gaze lingered on the erect nub of a dark nipple while he imagined how firm it would feel against his tongue.

Then his eyes took in the whole picture.

Gabriel had pulled up his shirt so he could examine the smattering of purpling bruises along his ribs.

Alarm washed out Jack’s lustful thoughts. “What happened?”

Gabriel pushed his tank top back down before dismissing Jack's concern with a shrug. “It sucks taking a hit without pads on.”

Hockey practice, not an altercation with his father. Jack relaxed, savoring the warm trickle of relief as it loosened the tension in his muscles, but a new concern surfaced as the sensation waned. “Why are you taking hits without pads on?”

“Jack,” Gabriel warned in a low tone.

“Does this have something to do with what happened at lunch?”

“It’s none of your business.”

The chair creaked as Jack rose to his feet. “It is.”

“No—”

“If you get hurt and can’t practice or compete with our team, it is my damn business.” The reasoning was weak, Jack knew, but he didn’t think he needed to argue a reason at all to be concerned. Even if they weren’t friends, Jack cared, especially if whatever was happening was leaving bruises in its wake.

“Careful,” Gabriel said, mocking, but his gaze fled to the wall opposite of Jack. “You might wake your parents with cursing like that.”

Gritting his teeth at the deflection, Jack gestured at the bruises. “How bad is it?”

“I’ve had worse.”

“You shouldn’t.”

Gabriel’s brow scrunched. “What?”

With a sigh, Jack leaned against the edge of the desk. “You shouldn’t know worse.”

“Oh.” Gabriel's face shuttered as his guard went up; his chest swelling and his shoulders inching upward. “It is what it is.”

The conversation teetered on the edge of becoming volatile. Jack's lips thinned as he chewed over the subject. Pressing the issue would light the fuse, but Jack couldn't leave it alone. No kid should share a home with an abusive parent.

Why did none of them talk about it?

Jack ran his lower lip through his teeth and used the pain of it to bolster himself. “Why not report him?”

Gabriel sat up, his shoulders drawn tight, and when he spoke in a low, even voice, the echo of a snarl rumbled just beneath the words. “It must be so simple from your point of view. You and your perfect parents, your apple-pie life. You the doted upon golden child—”

"Fuck you."

A tick of silence passed as they exchanged glares, then Jack stalked out of the room, careful not to slam the door.

He cared; was it such a terrible thing to accept? Why did Gabriel have to twist it around? It was like trying to help a wounded animal. Regardless of his good intentions, he was liable to get ripped to shreds as the scared animal lashed out in self defense.

But Gabriel wasn't a fucking animal and he had the capacity to realize that Jack _cared_ , he just wanted to _help_ —

Anger simmering, Jack silently moved through the house on socked feet. He returned to his room holding an ice pack, ibuprofen, and a glass of water.

Gabriel glowered from where he remained seated on the edge of the bed. His expression closed off and his posture bristling like that of a distrustful wolf.

Jack tossed the ice pack at him. Gabriel flinched, but caught it out of reflex. Silently, Jack offered the pills and water.

The aggression slowly ebbed away, leaving Gabriel looking weary. His golden eyes flicked from the medicine to Jack’s face. “I don’t get you.”

“Just take the medicine and shut up.”

A ghost of a smile passed over Gabriel's face before, with a soft snort, he did as he was told. Afterward he relocated to the cot and finished undressing for bed. Off came the socks and pants while Jack purposely busied himself with putting away his homework. But his eyes betrayed him, flicking toward Gabriel for the briefest glimpses of skin, and he hated himself more with each stolen glance.

Gabriel laid on top of the blankets in just briefs and a tank top, oblivious to Jack's losing battle. The ice pack rested against his ribs and he had an arm draped over his face to block out the room light.

It made sense, Jack reasoned, his fleeting glances having evolved into an open stare. Gabriel’s clothes were in the other room, so he had to make due with what he had on hand. Maybe he preferred to sleep in his underwear. Or in the buff.

Jack pondered over Gabriel's preferences while visually tracing his physique. It suddenly made Jack self-conscious about his own. Gabriel was toned while Jack remained lean. He had good definition in his arms, but Gabriel had hard lines _everywhere_.

Just as Jack started obsessing over the muscular shape of Gabriel’s thighs, while simultaneously guessing at the size of him under the briefs, his back stiffened. Shame burned a hole through his chest. He grabbed his pajamas and fled to the bathroom.

What the hell was he doing?

Leering at Gabriel like a slimy pervert.

Jack felt queasy as he changed into a plain, white shirt and a pair of green and blue plaid bottoms. He began brushing his teeth. Routine. He clung to it. Used it to push down the turmoil churning in his chest.

Staring at himself in the mirror, Jack felt his father's disappointment. His disgust. His hate.

For years Jack had been able to repress his sexuality. Ignore it. Deny it. But after giving an inch, letting himself entertain the idea of having a boyfriend, of kissing a guy, his desires were taking the whole mile with a bitter vengeance. His body and imagination were sent off by the smallest things.

The glimpse of skin. The waft of cologne.

He couldn't stop it.

He brushed harder.

The soft cotton of his pajamas did little to mask the half hard-on he’d been warring against ever since hearing the sound of Gabriel’s belt unlatching. Jack considered taking a quick, cold shower to thwart the burning itch tormenting him. He craved a release. The need clawed at him, threatening to tear through him. He was a dam with no outlet and on the verge of bursting.

What was he going to do?

Jack slowly extracted the toothbrush, ran his tongue over his aching gums, and tasted blood. Pink tinged the bristles of his toothbrush. The pain hardly registered. His heart hurt so more, twisted up with longing and self-loathing.

He had to do something.

In a few days, Gabriel would go home and whatever parlay currently in effect would be lifted. Gabriel would revert back to the infuriating jock he’d been before tryouts.

The distance would help calm things, but Jack still needed something. A distraction. A way to keep himself from ogling Gabriel like a piece of meat. Something to stave off the urge of using mental images of Gabriel to fuel his hand. Ignoring it wasn't working anymore, and the more Jack found his self control slipping, the more disgusted he became with his lecherous behavior. Ogling. Fantasizing. Jack needed an outlet. Maybe…

By the time Jack returned to the bedroom, Gabriel was asleep and lightly snoring. Jack draped a blanket over him. He grabbed his phone before turning off the light and crawling into bed. He prayed it wasn’t too late for Angela as he sent her a text, asking if she’d set him up with Vincent.

For a talk, he emphasized to himself, because he needed a safe option, someone outside his daily life.

:::  
_A song's never just sad_  
_There's hope, there's a silver lining  
Show me my silver lining_  
:::


	7. Map of a Problematique - Muse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> **IN CASE YOU MISSED IT:**  
>  I updated last Wednesday, as a special mid-week update. Be sure to read it! :)
> 
> * * *

:::  
_Fear and panic in the air_  
_I want to be free  
From desolation and despair_  
:::

“You guys do Halloween?” Gabriel asked.

Jack glanced away from the computer screen where he’d been distractedly typing at his government assignment. It was after school and, instead of doing homework like Jack, Gabriel and Genji sat at a round table adjacent to the lab computers, whiling away the time by folding origami. Gabriel intently watched Genji demonstrate a fold, his brow scrunching as he struggled to mimic it.

Having only typed out one half-hearted paragraph, Jack sighed and closed out the program. His gaze skated toward his watch for the umpteenth time. Angela was supposed to meet them there. She’d eagerly agreed to drive Genji and Gabriel home since it freed Jack up to meet with Vincent, but she was late. Torn between being relieved about having a convenient excuse to not go, and being annoyed at being late for anything, Jack internally wallowed.

“We don’t get trick or treaters out at the farm,” Jack said.

“I mean, do you dress up? Go out?”

“We don’t celebrate Halloween back home,” Genji said while making another careful fold. “I think it would be fun to do while I’m here.”

Jack eyed them both. “Kinda old to be trick or treating.”

The fold Gabriel made was not as neat. He compared it to Genji's with a faint scowl. “Doesn’t have to be about candy. We could raise hell.”

“Like toilet paper someone’s house?” Jack peered at Gabriel and lifted a questioning brow. “Do a ritual summoning in the graveyard?”

“Sure.” Gabriel grinned. “As long as everyone dresses up. The whole team. It’ll be fun.”

“Halloween is like a month away.”

“Not a lot of time to work on costumes, but better late than never.”

For a long, quiet moment, Jack watched as Genji instructed Gabriel in the last few folds. He waited for the punchline, or some ulterior motive to present itself, but nothing of the sort happened.

Jack cocked his head to the side. “You’re serious.”

“Yeah.” Gabriel examined his rather crumpled looking paper crane with a frown. “I like Halloween.”

With a similar frown, Jack checked his watch before looking toward the door. “I guess we can ask everyone at lunch tomorrow.”

“Got a hot date tonight, Morrison?”

A ghostly hand tightened around Jack’s heart. “W-what?”

“You keep checking the time.” Gabriel peered at him with the same intensity he’d given the origami folds. “You have somewhere you need to be?”

Jack busied himself by putting away his government textbook and zipping up his backpack. “Angela was supposed to pick you guys up fifteen minutes ago.”

“So you _are_ going somewhere.” Gabriel pointed the beak of the deformed crane at him. “And it’s a secret.”

Jack tugged at his shirt collar. “I’m meeting up with a friend I haven’t seen in a while. I figured you two wouldn’t want to tag along.”

For a tense moment, with his heart thumping loudly in his ears, Jack met Gabriel’s scrutinizing gaze. The half-truths held up well enough because, after an agonizing moment where it felt like Gabriel was reading over the fine print of his soul, Gabriel shrugged indifferently.

Jack slowly exhaled then, again, glanced at his watch.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Gabriel threw the paper crane at him. “Just take us with you. Where are you meeting?”

Jack caught the paper against his chest while his eyes slowly widened with terror. “The mall.”

“Awesome.” Gabriel scooped up his own backpack. “Genji and I can go to the arcade while you go have your secret meeting.”

“O-okay,” Jack said, still clutching the paper crane to his chest.

“I had the top scores at the arcade in Hanamura,” Genji gloated while parading his perfect, flapping paper crane through the air.

Gabriel snatched the crane out of his hands. “You’ll have to beat my sister’s and Hana’s scores.”

“Challenge accepted.”

“Your funeral.”

Unable to wiggle out of the situation, Jack hastily sent an annoyed text to Angela before leaving the library. He spent the drive to the mall white-knuckling the steering wheel. The idea of being caught with Vincent — even if it was only for a talk and _not a date_ — terrified him. It had to be a sign. The world was telling him to turn away from temptation, to walk away from a slippery slope. He was flirting with something entirely volatile.

Jack’s mind remained distant. He barely registered parking at the mall, or the walk inside, but he must have looked as pale as he felt, because as Genji disappeared into the darkened room of flashing lights, Gabriel lingered behind to peer at Jack, concerned. The expression faded into a simple grin as he said, “You owe me.”

Jack, pulse thready and his palms clammy, did little but furrow his brow in confusion.

“I’m babysitting so you can — what?”

“Meet a friend,” Jack quickly supplied.

“Right.” Gabriel leaned forward, as if he could smell the fear wafting off of Jack, and his grin inched a little wider. “You always this nervous when meeting a friend?”

The close proximity momentarily dazed Jack’s spiraling thoughts. Gabriel seized on the hesitation, his golden eyes suddenly bright with thoughts. “Does Angela know who you’re meeting?”

Wait— what?

Startled back into action by the peculiar question, and the accusing tone, Jack shook his head. “Yeah, she knows, she’s the one that— “ he stopped the thought and attempted to jump tracks. “I’m actually worried about her. She always answers my texts and she’s never late. What if something happened?” It started out as an attempt to throw Gabriel off, but once the idea gained traction, Jack's stomach dropped. “What if she got in a wreck?”

“Whoa.” Gabriel gripped Jack’s shoulders, grounding him. “I’m sure she’s fine. I’ll call her, okay? Chill out. Go meet your friend.”

Jack dutifully nodded. “Text me if you get a hold of her?”

“Nah, I think I’ll leave you waiting on pins and needles.” Gabriel gave him a small push. “Go.”

“Gaaaaabe,” Genji whined from inside the arcade.

A pained grimace crossed Gabriel’s face. He pointed a threatening finger at Jack while backing into the arcade. “You owe me.”

Stuffing his hands into his pockets, Jack shuffled toward the food court. Angela had picked the meeting place, claiming the public area would reduce the pressure. It made it less like a date — _it wasn’t a date_ — and more like Jack’s fib. He was just meeting a friend for a talk. _A talk_. What were they supposed to talk about in public? What if someone overheard? What if someone saw him sitting at a table with Vincent?

Just a talk. Just friends.

Jack claimed a round table near a column to seize on the smallest bit of privacy in the food court. He set his phone on the table and frowned at the lack of new messages. As he brought up Angela’s number and began to tap out a message, a shadow passed over his table.

“When she showed me your picture, I thought I was being catfished.”

Jack straightened up, meeting the pair of warm, brown eyes gazing down at him. _Vincent_ , Jack assumed while looking over the other teenager, comparing him to the picture Angela had sent him the other night. It was the same dark, brown hair and light olive skin. Mediterranean, Jack thought absently while taking in the rest of Vincent’s features. Slender, a long, sharp nose, well dressed, and a smile that leaned toward shyness. He was cute, in the way most young men were cute, but not in a way that grabbed Jack’s attention. Not in the way Gabriel’s rugged features were strikingly handsome and —

The point of meeting Vincent, Jack fiercely reminded himself, was to stop his thoughts from wandering toward Gabriel.

After clearing his throat, but still at a loss for words, Jack gestured to the chair opposite of him.

Vincent accepted the offer, sliding down into the chair with a nervous smile. He picked at his nails while his eyes remained intent on Jack’s stoic features. “Are you sure you’re gay?”

Jack balked; his lips opened and closed like a fish suffocating on land. As Vincent’s expression crumbled, Jack looked elsewhere, terrified that someone heard the tactless question. Perhaps Mrs. Miller, from church, out shopping with her daughters, might have been passing by right at that moment and couldn’t wait to get home and call his mother.

_This was a mistake. This was a mistake._

“I’m sorry.” Vincent’s shoulders hunched and his sheepish smile matched his apology. “You’re just really good looking and it’s intimidating. I was trying to make a joke to break the ice, which apparently was a bad idea.”

No one seemed to be paying them any mind. Jack slowly exhaled and returned his attention to Vincent. The way Vincent looked at him, shy but hopeful, reminded Jack of some of the girls he’d spoken to in the past. The ones that liked him more than just a friend. Vincent was _interested_ in him. Jack wasn’t used to that kind of look from another guy. It was flattering, enough that it pushed back his anxiety.

“It’s fine,” Jack said while managing a half smile, surprised when Vincent mirrored the expression. _This is not a date._ But Jack couldn’t lie, he liked the attention. He rubbed at the back of his neck as he processed the praise in Vincent’s words. “And thanks, I guess?”

Should he return the compliment?

No, Jack’s stomach turned at the thought, he wasn’t ready to take that step.

Instead, after several glances between his phone and Vincent’s flickering smile, Jack veered the conversation to the side. “Angela said you met over summer?”

“Yeah.” Vincent perked at the change in topic. “At a cooking workshop. My mom loves doing them and dragging me with her.”

Church taught Jack the art of small talk, meandering conversations leading nowhere. It’d be easy to ask about Vincent’s mother, or about the cooking class, or even more about how he became friends with Angela, but it’d be fake. A role he knew how to play. Jack just wanted to be himself. The whole idea behind meeting Vincent had been an attempt to free himself, just a little, from everyone’s expectations.

But he didn’t expect to find himself to be such an unfamiliar person, his mind drawing a blank when he had no role to fulfill.

Latching onto the only line of conversation between them, Jack asked, “What did she say about me?”

“Nothing bad,” Vincent reassured. “When I mentioned to her that I was gay, she kind of went off about you. She said you were having trouble with… _stuff_ ,” he paused long enough to watch Jack’s reaction (a faint pinching of his brows), before he continued, “and, over the last week, how you might need someone to talk to — someone that could relate to your situation?”

She had good intentions, Jack knew, but he couldn’t help but also see it all as her attempt to play matchmaker. Not that he could claim the moral high ground. As much as he wanted to talk to someone, he’d first asked for the meeting as a means to shift his sexual frustration away from Gabriel.

Jack frowned, at himself, but Vincent took it personally, his expression fell in response.

“Is she wrong?” Vincent asked.

“No.” _This was a mistake._ “I just don’t know how to talk about any of it.”

They lapsed into an awkward silence. Jack stared blankly at his phone while Vincent drew in a deep breath, let it out, then graced Jack with a gentle smile. Jack tried to match it, but his lips only twitched upward. With a faint shrug, Vincent said, “How about we start with parents?”

A shard of ice speared through Jack’s gut. His mind reeled. Shouldn’t they talk about their favorite movies? Or places in town they liked to go? Favorite foods? Colors? Songs? Diving right into the root of his problems made him want to run. The subject stretched out before Jack like a minefield and he physically retreated from it by leaning back.

Hesitantly, for the sake of his sanity, he verbally took the first precarious step forward.

“If I wasn’t the only son left, if my father’s whole livelihood didn’t rest on me taking over for him, he’d probably take me out to the back fields and shoot me.”

Vincent’s eyes widened. “I doubt he—”

A sharp look from Jack shut Vincent’s mouth.

Vincent swallowed before trying again; his voice soft and his shoulders slumping. “I understand the feeling, how terrifying it is when you know your parents don’t approve.”

“When I was young.” Jack’s heart trembled and raced. “There was an — an incident. A kiss. And — and — “ It was too difficult to think about, let alone say it. It paralyzed him. His thoughts caught on the memory and a vice tightened around his lungs. With his last bit of breath he dispelled the trance, shaking his head as he said, “I can’t be gay.”

“There’s nothing wrong with—”

“No,” Jack snapped. “There’s nothing wrong with being gay. _I_ just can’t be gay.”

“Jack,” Vincent said while reaching for his hands, but Jack pulled away. Vincent's fingers splayed over the empty table. His lips thinned and he took to tracing the faux wood grains with one fingertip. After a long moment, he sighed. “My parents are divorced. My dad doesn’t talk to me anymore and when I first told my mom that I was gay, she cried.”

Jack listened while his eyes frantically searched the food court.

“I remember feeling awful, all the time, but it got better. Now my mom couldn’t be happier. She thinks me being gay is her ticket to take me along shopping.” Vincent chuckled. “I hate shopping. I really do, but it's something we do together.”

Vincent peeked up at Jack. “I know it can be tough, but it gets better.”

“What if it doesn’t get better?”

“You’ll have friends like Angela.” Vincent chewed over his lip. “A friend like _me_ to help it get better.”

Unable to brush off the sincerity, Jack studied Vincent’s earnest expression. It wasn’t a lie. There were no hidden strings attached to Vincent’s offer. He meant what he said, and Jack had no reason to think Vincent would ever turn on him.

“You’re really nice,” Jack said, softly.

Color flooded into Vincent’s cheeks, which Jack found adorable, and the idea of making Vincent blush again was appealing. With a surge of newfound courage, Jack unlocked his phone, started a new contact, and slid the phone over.

Vincent beamed while putting in his contact information.

Maybe, Jack thought as he sent a quick text to the number so Vincent had his info as well. Maybe they could be friends and, after a time, maybe even more than friends. A small hook of ache tugged at Jack’s heart as he stared at the new contact. The same could not be said about Gabriel, and wishing for more than a temporary alliance with him was exceedingly foolish.

In a quiet tone Jack asked, “You ever have a crush on a straight guy?”

“Yup.” Vincent puffed out a breath. “It’s awful.”

Jack smiled, weakly. “What did you do about it?”

“Eventually I just stopped hanging out with him because all it did was make me miserable.”

“Yeah.” Jack's smile dropped into a mild frown. “I was afraid of that.”

In a few days, Gabriel would return to his own house. Between practices and school, Jack’s interactions with Gabriel would be scarce. The separation would temper down his feelings. Maybe talking to Vincent would stamp them out all together. Saddened by the thought, Jack realized how reluctant he was to let go of his crush, to the addicting rush of elation and pain.

The table jostled as Gabriel hooked a nearby chair with his foot and sat down next to Jack. He jerked a thumb to the side. “That kid is a cheat.”

Genji pushed a second chair up to the table, between Gabriel and Vincent, and hopped into it with a child-like glee. “I told you, I’m just that good.”

“Bleeding me dry.”

“You wouldn’t have spent so much money if you weren’t so bad.”

“My sister is going to castrate you for beating her score on House of the Dead. In fact, I’m going to text her right now.” Gabriel pulled out his phone, began tapping at the screen and — without looking up — said, “Hi, Jack. Hi, Jack’s friend.”

“Hey guys.” Jack winced at the sound of his own strained tone. He leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms over his stomach, and attempted to exude a casual facade while his insides turned into slush. It didn’t escape his notice how Gabriel’s eyes flicked over to Vincent, scrutinizing him with one quick, sweeping glance.

Jack’s fingers tightened into the fabric of his shirt. “Did you run out of quarters?”

Gabriel finished his text, slapped his phone on the table, and mirrored Jack’s posture. “I’m not wasting any more money on that cheat.”

“You are a sore loser,” Genji crooned.

“Besides.” Gabriel shoved at Genji’s chair with one long leg, nearly sending it toppling backwards. Genji flailed and grabbed the table with a flourish of agitated Japanese. Smirking, Gabriel looked back to Jack. “I came to tell you Angela is grounded. I called until her mom got annoyed and answered. She said something about Angie going way over her data limit, costing them a fortune — anyway, long story short, she's grounded and got her phone taken away.”

A stone of worry lifted from Jack’s thoughts and he thanked Gabriel with a quick, grateful smile.

“I’m sorry.” Gabriel’s posture altered. He leaned forward, his attention no longer on Jack, but sharpening on Vincent. Having known Gabriel for years, having witnessed the subtle signs of his shifting mood, Jack swallowed, knowing Gabriel aimed to stir up trouble.

“What’s your name?” Gabriel asked with feigned politeness.

Jack nudged Gabriel’s foot, narrowing a warning look on him. “This is Vincent,” he said, tightly, and made a vague gesture between them all. “Vincent, this is Gabriel and Genji.”

Vincent raised his hand in an uncertain wave. Genji flashed him a peace sign while Gabriel lofted an unimpressed brow.

“Where do you go to school?” Gabriel continued his interrogation.

Vincent shot Jack a questioning look before addressing Gabriel, “Westwood.”

“Oh, I think our first game is against you guys,” Gabriel said offhandedly while rubbing a calloused hand along his jaw, creating a distinct rasping noise against the coarse stubble. “So,” he said while his eyes narrowed, "do you go to the same church as Jack?”

"No." Vincent's nose wrinkled. "I don't go— "

"Then how do you know Jack?"

Jack smacked the side of Gabriel’s arm with the back of his hand, finally earning his attention. He mouthed over the words ‘ _what the hell_ ’ at Gabriel before shooting Vincent an apologetic look.

Gabriel smiled, amusement sparkled in his eyes. Why, Jack asked himself as his stomach somersaulted in response to the look. Why did he feel so drawn toward a prick like Gabriel? Why, with something as simple as a playful smile, could Gabriel completely scramble his ability to think straight?

“I switched schools during 7th grade, but I kept in touch with Angela Ziegler,” Vincent said without having to be coached with a backstory. His tone was neutral, but the tension around his eyes and mouth expressed his dislike for Gabriel’s antagonism.

“I told you I was meeting a friend,” Jack added with a steely narrow of eyes.

Gabriel all but purred under the tension; nothing but an easy smile across his face. “You might have mentioned it, yeah.”

“I’m going to go.” Vincent eased away from the table, nodding his head toward Genji and Gabriel as a farewell, but sparing a smile for Jack. “Talk to you later?”

“Yeah.” Jack’s gaze cut away to the side. “Sure.”

With one last wave, Vincent left. Jack waited until he was well out of sight before firmly smacking Gabriel’s bicep a second time. “What the hell was that about?”

Gabriel didn’t react to the hit. His head canted to the side as he continued to peer in the direction Vincent had gone. “He gay?”

Fear shot through Jack and clenched around his rib cage. His heart fluttered and quivered, darkening the edges of his vision. Jack withdrew his hand while his eyes remained locked on the side of Gabriel’s face. At first, all Jack could do in reply was to shake his head as if he didn’t understand. A dozen countering questions whirled behind his lips, but his tongue remained paralyzed. How could Gabriel tell? Why would he ask that? What did he know? Did he suspect something?

Bit by bit the paralyzing fear abated, allowing Jack to glance away. He lifted both hands, fingers spread, not wanting to even touch the subject laid out in front of him. Lastly, he managed to speak in a quiet, but steady, voice, “I don’t know. Does it matter?”

Gabriel shrugged, his hand having moved back to scratch at his stubbled jaw. “That look he gave you, that hopeful _call me_ look, he sure looked interested in you. I just thought you should know.”

It baffled Jack how observant Gabriel could be while also portraying the ignorant energy of a self-centered jock. The layers were subtle. Jack knew there was a lot more to Gabriel. Over the last two weeks, Jack had learned more about Gabriel than he had in the last decade. He yearned to learn more. The complexity intrigued him. He wanted to know what made Gabriel tick as much as he wanted to know the trick to soothing his quick fire temper.

It also reminded Jack that he needed to double down on his reactions when around Gabriel. Mimicking Gabriel’s indifference, Jack also shrugged. “Why?”

“Well.” Those tawny, wolf-like eyes finally turned toward Jack. “You don’t want to lead him on, do you?”

“N-no.”

“Then that’s why.”

Sighing with exasperation, Jack rubbed at his cheek and stared, vexed, as Gabriel existed as a contradiction to his own advice. No, Gabriel didn’t mean to lead him on, but even drug dazed kisses could not be completely written off. The following acts of kindness and friendship only further snared Jack’s heart. Jack didn’t know what to do. He had tried so hard to find solid ground with Gabriel and now he had to accept the only solution to his current problem was to sever ties with him.

Jack slouched forward, resting his chin in an upturned palm, and slowly shook his head at the bastard that had been part of his life since grade school. Either as a friend, or an enemy, they’ve danced between the two, always caught in each other’s peripherals. Imagining his life without Gabriel there to upset it in some way felt empty.

Gabriel arched a brow at him. “What?”

His heart ached, but he would endure the torment for a time longer. A crooked grin worked through his somber mood. “What are you going to be for Halloween?”  


:::  
_And I feel like everything I saw_  
_Is being swept away  
When I refuse to let you go_  
:::


	8. Kiss of Life - The Dear Hunter

:::  
_Give me more than the things that I've lived for  
I'm only echoes of the man that I'm supposed to be  
Because I want more of the things I'd die for  
I want to feel it in my soul_  
:::  


Routine dominated Jack’s life. It narrowed his focus like blinders on a horse. He concentrated on the task ahead, on his father’s expectations, ignoring any distractions or temptations, existing from one task to the next. School. Chores. Church. The farm.

Every now and then he’d eke out a bit of time for himself. A movie with Angela, shooting out in the back fields, walking the ditch line with Soldier happy at his side. Small moments, here and there, where he could almost get a feel of who he wanted to be as opposed to who his father wanted him to be. A passing wonder, because Jack knew the path ahead of him, where it led, and pondering over the 'what if's only made him miserable. He kept it all compartmentalized and committed himself to a familiar routine to dull the ache in his heart.

When Genji had moved in, it had only altered Jack’s life in a small way. At first it had been unusual to have another kid in the house after being an only child for almost a decade. But instead of turning Jack’s world around, Genji existed within the routine. Genji went into town at the same time, went home at the same time, joined the same teams. Conversation between them remained short and straight forward because they didn’t share any interests. Genji didn’t work the chores like Jack, which meant nothing really changed at all.

Gabriel, however, changed everything.

It began with a kiss that had shaken the ground under Jack’s feet. It forced him to not only question himself, but to acknowledge his own wants and needs. Then, with Gabriel staying at the farm, upsetting the routine, Jack unexpectedly found himself with free time to delve on thoughts he usually shunned.

Having both hockey practices and work shifts, Gabriel — who no longer had a car — relied on Jack to get around. Instead of wasting gas driving out to the farm, only to turn back around to pick up Gabriel, Jack argued (with his father) that it made more sense to just stay in town during those hours. His father wasn’t pleased with the arrangement, but dropped the issue on the account of Gabriel’s stay being a temporary thing; a week at the most.

Free to do nothing, hours of nothing, Jack struggled to fill the time. Genji, well practiced in the art of slacking off, helped to ease Jack into the unknown territory. They went to the mall, where Genji thoroughly thrashed him at every arcade game. They sat on the benches and people watched. And, on one sunny afternoon, Jack learned how to frisbee golf, or folf, in the park with some students Genji knew.

Over the course of three days, Jack’s world slowly broadened and his mind started wandering down avenues he’d closed long ago. As if jarred from a deep sleep, Jack was slow to register the lights and colors of the world around him.

He began thinking about the things he liked to do, to experience, to see with his own eyes. A future beyond the farm. A life outside the confines of his father’s expectations. College. A boyfriend. A job. Moving away. Enlisting. The thoughts were exciting — hopeful — but dangerous. Leaving the farm wasn’t an option. Yet in those idle moments of nothing, Jack daydreamed about the possibilities.

Parked outside the ice rink, waiting for Gabriel’s hockey practice to end, Jack sat with Genji in the idling truck, half listening to the radio while thinking about a different life. It was as he toyed with the idea of getting a part time job, imagining what he might do with his own money, that he glimpsed Gabriel in the rear view mirror, approaching the truck with long, angry strides.

Jack had a half second to brace himself before Gabriel flung his bag of equipment into the truck bed. The resounding bang startled Genji into dropping his phone. A storm cloud of rage followed Gabriel into the truck, thundering with the slam of the door. Sharp lines were etched into Gabriel’s face, twisted and deep, but he stared out the front window without uttering a word.

Genji shared a questioning look with Jack.

When the truck didn’t move forward in some accompanying rage-fueled exit of the parking lot, Gabriel’s hostility snapped to meet their wide-eyed stares. “What?”

The volatile energy flooding the truck cab made the back of Jack’s neck prickle. Gabriel wanted a fight; the harsh look, the flexing of the muscles in his arms. Gabriel wanted to _hit_ something. All it would take was a spark to ignite it.

Jack stared, a deer caught in the headlights of a truck, while his thoughts skittered to and fro, piecing together the partial understanding he had in regards to Gabriel’s attitude. It fixed around the image of the regret Gabriel had shown during their fist fight.

Not a fight then, Jack decided, but seeking an outlet of some kind. Jack studied the rest of the hockey team filtering through the parked vehicles. Usually a couple of hours on the ice had a calming effect on Gabriel. Something had gone awry, yet asking after the cause would only fuel the fire threatening to engulf them.

Instead, Jack cleared his throat and tried not to grin as he summoned up his best fatherly impression. “Hey buddy, tough day? Wanna go get some ice cream?”

Gabriel’s eyes narrowed into venomous slits. “Are you trying to be funny?”

“ _Estoy muy cómico_.”

The glare vanished, forming into a dazed look as the harsh lines in Gabriel’s face smoothed into a blank canvas. His lips twitched in the barest flashes of amusement. In the next second, Gabriel recovered. He snorted while rolling his eyes and shifting his attention back out the window. “ _Más bien 'eres idiota'_ "

The tension ebbed. Jack counted it as a win and grinned to himself while reaching for the gear shift. As his foot pressed down on the clutch, he caught sight of a figure approaching his door. He turned his head just as Jesse slapped his hand against the window.

“Speaking of idiots,” Gabriel muttered.

Jack cranked down the window. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Jesse draped his arms over the door, the stench of cigarettes preceding him. “Normally Mr. Prickles over there gives me a ride home after Friday practice.”

Jack gestured to the truck bed. “You’ll have to ride in the back unless you can convince him to scoot over.”

An extended middle finger from Gabriel put an end to that option. Jesse grinned crookedly. “Actually, I was wonderin’ if I could jus stay the night at your place.”

A flicker of unease twisted through Jack’s chest. Given Gabriel’s ill mood and Jesse’s connection to illicit cure-alls, Jack hesitated to put the two together. Before Jack could navigate through a polite refusal, Genji gripped the side of the steering wheel and leaned toward the window.

“You should talk to my brother tonight,” Genji said to Jesse.

Jesse’s brows rose, nearly disappearing under the rim of his hat. “Who?”

“My brother, Hanzo, he hates everything American and you are very American.”

“If yer talkin’ bout my boots, don’t knock ‘em until you’ve broken in a pair for yourself. Ain’t nothin’ better than a reliable pair of boots.”

An impish glee spread across Genji’s face, “And your accent—”

“What accent?”

“He’s going to absolutely hate you.”

“Now hold on,” Jesse said while pulling a cigarette pack from his shirt pocket. “I ain’t ever met someone that I couldn’t charm.”

“You’ve never met my brother.”

Jesse laughed. He climbed into the bed of Jack’s truck and settled down against the back window before loudly proclaiming, “Genji Shimada, I accept your challenge.”

The choice having been made without him, Jack mentally shrugged and began the drive out to the farm. He stole several glances across the truck cab, noting the tension building in Gabriel’s posture, noticing how his expression slowly darkened and his fists periodically tightened.

By the time they pulled into the driveway, Jack was set on soothing Gabriel’s anger before Jesse got involved.

As they walked toward the front door, Jack caught Gabriel’s arm and held him back to let Jesse and Genji pass by. The two hardly noticed, too engaged in a debate over the upcoming skype call. Gabriel arched a brow at him, but Jack waited until the screen door swung shut before retracting his hand and meeting Gabriel’s piercing gaze.

“Want to go shooting?”

Surprise dulled the edges of Gabriel’s anger as he searched Jack’s face for any alternative motive.

Jack rubbed at the back of his neck. “I offered to teach you and I figure we should do it before it starts getting too cold.”

After a tense few heartbeats, Gabriel relaxed. “Yeah, if you don’t have chores to do… ?”

Jack did, but he was milking the freedom his father was allotting him under present circumstances. With a grin and a bounce in his step, Jack eagerly led Gabriel to his bedroom.

Gabriel set aside his bag of hockey gear while Jack retrieved one of the rifles from the stand in his closet. His grandfather had taught him to shoot and when he’d passed on, Jack had inherited the guns much to John Senior’s displeasure. Jack treasured them. Shooting was one of the few things he allowed himself to enjoy and it thrilled him to share it with Gabriel.

“First, make sure it’s not loaded.” Jack demonstrated by pulling back the bolt to reveal the empty chamber. He closed it and handed it over to Gabriel, watching him expectedly.

Gabriel eyed the gun before giving Jack a cross look. “You just did.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Jack crossed his arms, unwilling to budge on the rules of gun safety. His grandfather had been very strict about how to handle guns. “Check the safety, check the chamber, keep your finger off the trigger.”

The last part he emphasized while adjusting Gabriel’s hand, moving his finger out from the trigger guard. He then guided Gabriel’s thumb to the safety, flicking it on and off, then again showed him how to expose the bullet chamber. Gabriel, bristling under Jack's orders, watched it all with a guarded interest.

“Keep the barrel pointed away from people at all times.”

“Why does it matter if it’s not loaded?”

Jack squinted at him, wondering if the question was asked just to irk him. He squared up in front of Gabriel, his expression frank. “The first rule of gun safety is to treat every gun as if it's loaded.”

“And if I don’t follow the rules?”

Leaning forward, Jack brought them nose to nose and narrowed his eyes. “Then you don’t get to learn how to shoot.”

Gabriel smiled in spite of Jack’s growling demeanor. The stand off lingered, the tension vibrating like a guitar string tuned too tight and threatening to snap. His golden eyes slowly read over Jack’s stern glare. Jack clenched his jaw against the pleasant flutter zipping along his nerves, against the urge to lower his gaze to Gabriel’s dusky pink lips, against the impulse to lick at his own.

Gabriel retreated a step and complied with Jack's orders. Checking the chamber, flicking the safety on, and using the strap to carry the rifle over his shoulder so the barrel pointed toward the ceiling. With a smirk he spread his arms, presenting himself for Jack’s approval. “Do I pass?”

“For now.”

Jack strapped a thigh holster to his leg, keenly aware of Gabriel's watchful gaze. He drew a pistol from the closet and pointedly checked the chamber, magazine, and the safety before sliding it into the holster. Gabriel’s head tilted and his eyes slowly trekked upward. In response, Jack's cheeks flushed with the sudden idea that Gabriel was checking him out.

Absurd. Absolutely absurd.

The back fields of the Morrison farm consisted of deep dips of depressions and gentle rises of hills. Some of the land had been flattened for fields, or fenced off to rent out to graze cattle. Other parts remained wild and untamed. Jack had claimed one such depression between hills where a grove of aspen grew alongside one end of a shallow pond.

A few cottonwoods dotted the edge of the water. The sad excuse for a tree house remained abandoned in one tree; the old boards rotten from exposure. Jack had tried tearing it down a couple years after Ben’s funeral, attempting to destroy the whims of his childhood, but he had only succeeded in giving himself a scar along his hip when he’d fallen out of the tree into the pile of nails and boards. Later he’d re-purposed the wood to serve as targets. The boards sat propped against the hill side, riddled with holes from years of target practice.

While Gabriel took in the secret oasis, Jack retrieved a fresh paper target from behind the truck seat. He taped it to one of the boards before leading Gabriel to the dirt mound where they set up to shoot.

Lying on their stomachs, side by side, Jack went over the lessons his grandfather had given him. He emphasized the importance of knowing what laid beyond the target in the case of the shot traveling or going wide. Even though Gabriel gazed at him with a low-key annoyance, Jack harped on the responsibility of the shooter. Once that trigger was pulled, Gabriel would be responsible for everything that bullet did.

Gabriel sighted down the scope while Jack lofted a pair of binoculars. Under Jack’s instruction, Gabriel took shot after shot. It was a low caliber rifle, a varmint gun, so it wasn't overly loud, and the kickback was nearly nonexistent, but the distinct, sharp crack through the quiet always gave Jack a pleasant buzz.

After several rounds it became obvious Gabriel had a natural aptitude for shooting.

“You sure you’ve never been shooting?” Jack asked.

“First time,” Gabriel answered, his cheek pressed against the wooden stock.

“You’re doing great.”

“I have a good teacher.” Gabriel flashed a grin. “He’s a bit of an ass, but still alright.”

Jack hid his blush behind the binoculars, honing in on the target sheet. The smallest compliments, even sarcastic ones, turned his insides to mush. As much as he tried to put up mental barriers against it, it was like trying to push back the ocean. The feelings he meant to keep at bay up slipped past the barricades with a cheerful ease.

Gabriel nudged him, then shifted the rifle over. “Let’s see what you can do.”

Passing off the binoculars, Jack took a few seconds to set up his shots. He moved the sight between the five printed targets, practicing them, then, with ease, he sank all five. His hands flew through the motions of ejecting the spent casings and loading fresh bullets into the chamber. The actions were therapeutic in how they cleared his mind. He smiled as he picked up the empty cartridges.

“I’m not really sure,” Gabriel said as he lowered the binoculars, “but I’m willing to bet you just blew whatever I did out of the water.”

Shooting was one of the few things Jack did for himself and the praise made his heart soar.

“Are you planning to serve?” Gabriel asked.

The good feeling fluttered away, leaving Jack’s mood to plummet like a wounded bird. The smile, once bright and playful, wilted into a frown. Jack shifted his attention to the bullet riddled target board. His fingers pulled at the dried stalks of field grass. “No.”

Gabriel’s scrutiny narrowed on the side of Jack’s face. “Seriously? Your dog’s name is ‘Soldier’—”

“My dad hates the military,” the words snapped out more harshly than Jack meant them. He didn’t want Gabriel picking at him, prying away the layers and making assumptions.

“I figured your dad was an old Vet with the way he acts.”

He flicked the grass aside. “He’s just a hardass. His brother died in service and since I’m the only son, it’s just… out of the question.”

“But you’ve thought about it.”

Yeah, once Jack had reached high school and started to see the recruiters pushing flyers at the older boys, Jack had thought about it a lot. He’d made the mistake of mentioning it to his father. After being lectured within an inch of his life, his father had threatened to take away the guns his grandfather had left him. They’d compromised. Jack was to never bring up the subject again in exchange for keeping the guns.

Jack rolled his shoulders in an impassive shrug. “What about you? You’re a good shot.”

“Nah.” Gabriel stretched out on his side, like a lounging cat, lax aside from how his gaze remained keen on Jack’s face. “I don’t like taking orders.”

Snorting softly, Jack met Gabriel’s piercing gaze. “I’ve noticed.”

“You know,” Gabriel flicked some of the torn grass toward Jack. “You don’t need your dad’s permission to sign up.”

Jack grimaced while shifting up to his knees. He brushed away the dirt and grass from his shirt and thighs while muttering, “It’s not that simple.”

“Oh it is.” Gabriel chuckled. “Those recruiters will do anything to get guys like you and me to sign up.”

“That’s—” _not what I meant_. Jack continued to frown despite Gabriel’s playful grin. Gabriel wasn’t wrong, but he didn’t understand the expectations riding on his shoulders. No, Gabriel exercised his right to do whatever the hell he wanted. He walked to the beat of his own drum; no one told Gabriel Reyes what he could or could not do.

Gabriel lofted a brow at him. “What?”

Realizing he’d been staring, Jack abruptly stood to his feet. “Nothing.”

“I still want to try that handgun.” Gabriel followed, brushing the dirt from his shirt as he did. “And we’re not leaving until you spit out what’s bothering you.”

The whole idea of taking Gabriel out shooting had been to get his mind off whatever had happened earlier to put him in such a foul mood. Jack never intended to pry into the cause of the original mood, but since Gabriel was attempting to lever out an answer, Jack felt inclined to return the gesture. “Sure, I’ll tell you what I was thinking about if you tell me what pissed you off at hockey practice today.”

“Bad practice.” Gabriel’s shoulders stiffened. “The rookies suck and we have our first game soon.”

Jack lightly crossed his arms. “And I was thinking about the weather.”

“No you weren’t.”

“Said the pot to the kettle.”

They matched each other’s narrowed looks, neither of them budging on the subject, until silently it was agreed upon to not talk about either issue. Jack walked Gabriel closer to the target and drew the handgun. He went over the safety, posture, and hand positions before squeezing off a couple rounds at the target. He switched the safety back on before handing it over to Gabriel, describing what it would be like using the open sights instead of the scope.

After emptying the clip, Gabriel smiled as he returned the pistol. “I like that.”

With arms crossed, they silently studied the different grouping of bullets. As Jack reached to remove the target sheet, Gabriel blurted, “Akande is trying to turn the team against me.”

Surprised at the shared information, Jack took a moment, picking at the stretch of masking tape holding up the target, before glancing at Gabriel’s closed off expression. “All because you sat with us at lunch?”

“No, he’d be doing it anyway, but he _is_ trying to use me sitting with you guys to leverage the rest of the team to his side.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I want to break his nose, but I doubt that will fix anything.”

“What about your coach? Can’t he—”

“I think I’ve shared enough,” Gabriel turned toward him, arms a little tighter across his chest. “Your turn.”

Dodging the fierce look, Jack continued to pick at the tape until the sheet came free of the board. He folded the paper into a small square while contemplating his answer. If he didn’t respond, after Gabriel had willingly opened up, it would shatter the fragile line of friendship stretching between them.

His blue eyes remained low as he handed the paper over. “I was being envious.”

Gabriel accepted the folded sheet. “About what?”

“You.”

His heart lurched toward his throat and a dull ache seeped through his chest and down his arms. Jack made to head toward the truck, but Gabriel caught him by the arm. It was hard to meet Gabriel’s searching look, his own gaze continued to dart away like a repelling magnet.

“Me?”

Jack shoved his hands into the safety of his pockets while his shoulders lifted in a quick shrug. “You just do what you want, say what you want. It’s easy for you. It’s not easy for me.”

“Jack.” Gabriel tried to laugh it off, but his smile faded into visible confusion. “There’s nothing to envy about me. I’ve got so many fucking problems going on in my life—”

“You think I don’t have problems?”

Gabriel smirked, but before he could open his mouth to retort, Jack snapped at him, “If you start in on me being some golden boy with the perfect life, I swear to God I will knock you on your ass.”

Gabriel’s eyes flashed and amusement curled on his lips as he considered Jack’s threat. The tension thrummed, and just when Jack thought Gabriel might push the argument further, he stepped back and lifted his hands in mock surrender.

A spear of regret caught Jack in the gut, sharp and cold, sending ice through his veins. Threatening Gabriel with violence struck too close to the situation Gabriel dealt with at home. The color drained from Jack’s face. “I didn’t mean — not like — “

“I know you didn’t,” Gabriel said, but looked away. “That’s different Jack, don’t compare yourself to that.”

It still made him feel sick. Jack spun away and retreated back to the dirt mound to pick up the rifle. He checked it over before packing it into the truck. Gabriel trailed after him the whole way. An uncomfortable quiet settled between them as they drove back to the house. Jack mentally kicked himself the whole way. He’d taken Gabriel out shooting to ease the tension, not make things twice as awkward and stressful.

As the house came into view, Gabriel broke the silence, “I’m moving back home tomorrow.”

Woe slid in between Jack’s ribs like a knife. The world around him became dim as his life narrowed back down to the farm. The possibilities he’d been dreaming about withered and died. Gabriel had been his excuse to step outside his comfort zone, to open his eyes to a life beyond the farm. Jack knew it had been a temporary situation, but he wished Gabriel wouldn’t go.

Jack didn’t know what to say. He parked, turned off the truck, but neither of them moved to get out. Jack hesitated to say anything, but the silence was crushing him. “What about your dad?”

“He fucked off back to his girlfriend’s place yesterday. He’s only ever around when she kicks him out.”

The unspoken fact hung in the air. Gabriel’s father would show up again in the future. Jack agonized over the impulse to tell Gabriel to call him when it happened. He bit down on the offer of always having a safe place for Gabriel to stay. It all caught in his throat, cut into him like barbed wire, because Gabriel needed to go. He had his own life, his own family, his own future. And his presence was upsetting Jack’s life. It was disrupting the routine Jack used to numb the pain. Gabriel had come in, made all this space and life in Jack’s world, and now he was going away and Jack could already feel the hollow spot it left in his wake.

“If I always did what I wanted,” Gabriel said, oblivious to how torn apart Jack felt. “I would have probably killed my dad a long time ago. It would have been easier than dealing with all the other shit.” He didn’t look at Jack, but put a hand up between them to ward off any comments. “We’re not talking about this. I’m only saying it because you shouldn’t envy me. Not for one goddamn second.”

Having said his piece, Gabriel climbed out of the truck. Jack held his tongue and watched him go. He sighed, heavily, and pressed his forehead against the steering wheel. It hurt too much to move. He closed his eyes and used his fingers to massage away the sting behind the lids.  
  


:::  
_Now that you've unburied me_  
_Dust me off and carry me home  
And I beg you sing life to me again  
I promise this won't happen again_  
:::


	9. Wherever I Go - One Republic

:::  
_I know I could lie but I’m telling the truth  
Wherever I go there’s a shadow of you  
I know I could try looking for something new  
But wherever I go, I’ll be looking for you_  
:::

“You guys are ruinin’ my blueberry pancakes,” Jesse said.

Jesse glowered while eying the three other teens seated around the kitchen table. Genji barely had his eyes open and was actively yawning at the generous spread set before them. Jack and Gabriel were overly somber, looking at anything but each other. Jack stared at his phone while chewing over the same piece of bacon he’d been working on a half hour ago. Gabriel drew patterns through the syrup with the tip of his fork. Together, they made a depressing little breakfast club.

“You two have a fight or somethin’?”

Two startled looks — one blue, one gold — snapped on to him, then to each other, before averting elsewhere. Chairs scraped across the floor as both Jack and Gabe stood and excused themselves.

“I need to pack,” Gabriel said and headed toward the hall leading to the bedrooms.

“I have chores to do, then I’ll take you guys into town,” Jack said while slipping out the front door.

Just like that, Jesse found himself alone with a barely conscious Genji. He took another bite of his pancakes and mulled over the curious development. He’d known Gabe and Jack most of his life, and he was well acquainted with their on and off again friendship. It always seemed that when the two were about to become the best of friends, something happened to drive a wedge between them. Normally it happened with a lot of dirty looks and sharp words. They never tip-toed around each other like they were that morning.

Gesturing with his fork at their empty seats, Jesse turned to Genji. “What t’hell is goin’ on with them?”

With a groan, Genji dropped his head against the table with a _thunk_. “I do not care.”

Jesse arched a brow at him. “What’s with you?”

An annoyed look was shot at him, “You were in my room until three a.m. talking to my brother!”

“You asked me to talk to ‘im. He was very interested in knowin’ about all the debaucherous things we American teenagers get up to, n’ I was happy to oblige.”

Genji groaned and covered his head with his arms.

Not the least bit sympathetic, Jesse sipped at his mug of coffee. “Ya know, I might be able to convince ‘im to let you stay over the summer so you can compete with us. Maybe I can even talk ‘im into comin’ over t’watch.”

Genji sat upright. “What? How?”

“Well, he’s a tough nut to crack, that’s fer sure, but if you let me talk to ‘im some more…”

* * *

The radio barely cut through the tension filling the truck cab. Jack drove with his heart and stomach in knots and his thoughts so far away from the road ahead of him. Jesse had tried to lighten the mood, prodding both Jack and Gabriel for conversation, but eventually the weighted silence smothered his attempts. Gabriel glared out the window, ignoring them both.

Jesse was dropped off first. He climbed out of the truck with a relieved sigh and waved from the door of his trailer.

Acid bubbled in the pit of Jack’s stomach, bringing the sting of bile to the back of his tongue as he eased out of the trailer court and headed toward Gabriel’s house. Words, weak and half-formed, clawed at Jack’s throat. He wanted to say something. Anything. But as he pulled into the drive of the Reyes’s house, not even a goodbye managed to pass his lips.

In equal silence, Gabriel stepped out of the truck and walked up to his house without a backward glance. Sombra met him at the door with a grin. He brushed past her before she could say anything, leaving her alone on the stoop. Confused, Sombra slowly turned and approached the truck.

Jack habitually rolled down his window as Sombra walked up.

“Thanks for taking care of him,” she said.

“No problem,” the words came out rough, mangled by the knife caught in his windpipe.

Sombra lingered, splitting her attention between Jack and the closed door of the house. Her lips tugged downward in a worried frown and her hands slid into the back pockets of her jeans.

Jack cleared his throat. “I’m going to—”

“Come to dinner Sunday,” Sombra rushed to stall his departure. “My mom will want a chance to thank you.”

The offer drew a weak smile out of Jack. While Sombra’s gratitude was genuine, Jack felt he had already intruded far enough into Gabriel’s life. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Dude.” Sombra hooked her arms over the lowered window to pull herself level with Jack and to hit him with a frank look. “Gabe stayed at your house all week, ate your food, and you had to chauffeur his grumpy ass everywhere. The least we can do is feed you dinner.”

Jack shrugged, failing to find fault in her reasoning, but Gabriel’s quick departure and lack of farewell deterred him from accepting the offer. Despite Sombra’s sincerity, Jack did not feel welcomed there. He didn’t want to sit at a dinner where Gabriel glared daggers into him the entire time. Jack nudged Sombra’s hand off his door. “Thanks, maybe another time.”

Maybe in another life.

Sombra sighed with frustration, scowled at him, but backed off all the same. She headed inside while he reversed out of the driveway and headed home. Back to a mind-numbing routine. Back to pushing his emotions down until he felt nothing. Jack turned up the radio, wishing the music would lessen the ache pressing on his soul. But the songs were too much. The words reached into the hollow inside him, echoing and stirring up his feelings further.

Eventually he shut off the radio and finished the drive in a roaring silence.

By the time he finished the chores his father had ready for him to make up for his laziness over the week, Jack lacked the energy to dwell on his unhappiness. He crawled into bed without dinner and wished he could stay there, feeling nothing by the ache in his muscles. Eventually, when sleep failed to take him, his fingers inched toward his phone on the nightstand.

One new message.

Jack opened the screen, expecting to find a text from Angela or Vincent.

**Reyes:** `Come to dinner tomorrow.`

The last time Jack had gotten such an enigmatic message, it had ended in an awkward standoff at the local restaurant. Jesse had been the cause then, and Jack suspected a similar trick at play. Sighing, Jack rolled onto his back and replied to the two hour old message.

**Jack:** `Sombra use your phone?`

Jack dropped the phone on his chest, closed his eyes, and again willed sleep to take him before his thoughts could run too far away. The phone buzzed several seconds later, denying him an escape.

**Reyes:** `No, why?`

A nervous thread tightened around Jack’s heart as he scrambled for an explanation as to why he'd declined Sombra’s offer. His fingers tapped out several starting messages, all of which he erased before sending. He’d assumed Gabriel didn’t want him to be there. Assumed it because Gabriel’s behavior that morning had suggested little else.

Why the change of heart?

Confused, frustrated, and just plain tired, Jack settled for bluntness.

**Jack:** `Didn’t think the offer came from you.`

**Reyes:** `Why?`

**Jack:** `Why would you?`

**Reyes:** `Dinner is at 6`

Jack stared at the message for a long while, irritated by the lack of explanation. Sombra probably had harped on Gabriel until he’d caved to her suggestion. Or she had roped their mother into it, guilt-tripping Gabriel into extending the invitation. Jack refused to believe Gabriel wanted him there.

He closed the conversation and brought up Vincent’s number. Their text history was filled with short bouts of small talk. Whenever Vincent asked him a question, Jack turned it around and let Vincent fill up his phone with long, rambling stories about his plans for colleges, his dislike toward his history teacher, and his love for his dog, Bosley, a derpy Pug.

Jack had responded to the latter topic with pictures of his own dog, Soldier, because at least they had a love of dogs as a common interest.

His thumbs hovered over the keypad, but he found he had very little to say to Vincent. He wanted to complain about Gabriel’s infuriating behavior, about how he couldn’t get a solid read on Gabriel, about how he wished his feelings toward Gabriel would just go away. He wanted to express his apprehension toward going to Gabriel’s house for dinner. He wanted to freak out about not knowing what to wear, what to expect, and wishing he had a decent excuse to get out of the whole ordeal.

Without saying any of it, Jack closed his phone and set it back on the nightstand.

* * *

As Sunday evening approached, Jack agonized over what to wear. He wanted to make a good impression, regardless of the fact Gabriel had seen him in flannel pajamas and witnessed the extent of his bed head at the breakfast table. Stepping into Gabriel's house — meeting his _mother_ — felt important.

Jack considered texting Angela for opinions on the different outfits he had tried on over the last hour, but she’d assume he was going on some date with Vincent. It’s all she ever asked about when they talked. Vincent this. Vincent that. _Vincent really likes you, Jack. Vincent loves Christmas, just like you, Jack. Have you and Vincent been talking? Are you going to ask him out?_

He’d started talking to her less just to avoid disappointing her with his lackluster responses.

Running short on time, Jack decided on over dressing for the occasion to avoid causing any kind of unintentional insult; he’d rather be teased about looking nice. He settled on his best jeans, a pale blue dress shirt, and slate gray sports jacket. Casual formal, he told himself as he examined himself in the mirror. He touched the open collar of the shirt, debating on a tie, but decided to leave it with the rest of the formal wear reserved for church.

He styled his hair with equal obsession until he figured no amount of fussing would erase the fact he was definitely trying too hard to impress someone. His parents stopped him as he tried to slip out the front door. He’d rattled off a lie about going out to dinner with Angela. His mother smiled, his father warned him to be home before nine, and Jack exhaled with relief as he ducked out the door.

His nerves screaming, Jack took to chewing his nails as he drove into town.

Five minutes before six, Jack awkwardly stood outside Gabriel's house, contemplating the pros and cons of sending a last minute text to say he felt ill. Food poisoning from church lunch, or something along those lines. Maybe he could pretend his mother wasn’t feeling well and he needed to stay home with her. As Jack stared down at his dress shoes, swimming through a sea of possible lies, the door opened.

“Yo, the doorbell works,” Sombra teased. She looked him over with a grin, then hopped across the threshold to snatch up his arm. “Forget dinner, handsome. Let’s go make out in your truck.”

He chuckled down at her pursed lips and exaggerated kissing noises.

“Get your claws off our guest.” Gabriel appeared, shooing Sombra aside before hauling Jack inside. The door shut and Gabriel looked Jack over in a similar fashion as his sister. “Look at you.” He tugged at the lapels of the jacket, straightening them before brushing off Jack’s shoulders. “You wear this to church today?”

“Ah, no, that involves slacks and putting on a tie.”

“Of course it does,” Gabriel mused while his eyes roamed back down.

Jack drank in the attention, already forgetting how ill tempered Gabriel had been the previous day. One smile and he was a goner, right back to ground zero in his attempts to wrest his feelings away from Gabriel. The worst of it was that he was happy there, preening under Gabriel’s small praises. At that moment, it made no sense for him to be anywhere else.

“Mamá is going to love him,” Sombra said.

The two siblings shared a knowing grin before dragging Jack into the dining room. They left him beside a table laden with multiple dishes, hardly leaving room for any of them to sit down and fill a plate.

“She makes a lot on Sundays so she can use the leftovers for lunch during the week,” Sombra explained after noticing his stare.

Spanish floated out from the kitchen. The words lifted at the end, emphasizing a question Jack didn’t understand, but the two Reyes children answered in unison. A second later, a woman poked her head out the batwing doors separating the kitchen from the dining room. Her dark eyes found Jack and she bustled out, wiping her hands on her apron as she approached him. Mrs. Reyes was maybe an inch taller than Sombra, which put her about a foot shorter than him (and Gabriel), but it didn’t stop her from pulling Jack down into a hug.

Stunned, Jack awkwardly patted her back while she held him, rattling off in Spanish too quick for him to translate. Gabriel and Sombra stood behind her, grinning with poorly restrained mirth.

“Mamá.” Gabriel finally took mercy on Jack. “ _No, él no habla español._ ”

Embarrassment tinged Jack’s cheeks as Mrs. Reyes released him. He mustered an apologetic smile as he raised a hand, holding his thumb and index finger close together. “ _Hablo un poquito._ ”

She smiled at him, also apologetic, before turning her head to say something quick and sharp to her amused children. To Jack she said in a gentler tone, “Please, sit. Eat.”

He did, taking a seat next to Sombra and across from Gabriel. Mrs. Reyes disappeared back into the kitchen only to emerge a moment later without her apron and carrying one last dish to squeeze onto the crowded table. Jack didn’t know where to start, which prompted Mrs. Reyes to fill his plate for him. She sat next to him, beaming, and Jack nervously took a small bite to appease her.

Once the spices hit his taste buds, he eagerly dug into the meal. His own mother wasn’t a bad cook, but their meals were plain in comparison. Meat, potatoes, some kind of vegetable; either separate or put together in a stew. It was savory, filling, but nothing compared to the flavors dancing in his mouth.

“Thank you.” Mrs. Reyes laid a hand on Jack’s forearm. Her own plate remained bare. “Gabi was no problem?”

_Gabi?_

Tempering down a grin, Jack glanced across the table. Gabriel met his look and smirked, clearly unperturbed by the nickname. It didn’t mean Jack had permission to use it, but he made a mental note to try it out sometime, namely when he was well out of reach of being hit in retaliation. Jack shifted his attention back to Mrs. Reyes. “No problem.”

Other than completely flipping Jack’s world around, Gabriel had been nothing but respectful while staying at the farm. A perfect guest who insisted on washing his own dishes and cleaning up after himself. Jack’s mother had been charmed by Gabriel, but she would have been content even if he’d been an ungrateful slob.

Jack’s father had not been so keen on Gabriel, but as a devout Catholic, he wouldn’t push Gabriel out the door without a reason. He kept his grievances to himself and found work elsewhere to avoid the arrangement. It made his wife happy, for a time, so he allowed it.

“It is nice,” Mrs. Reyes said while re-filling Jack’s plate. “Gabi never brings home boyfriends.”

Gabriel choked, Jack blushed, and Sombra cackled until she couldn’t breathe. Mrs. Reyes looked at the three of them while her brows lifted in confusion.

“Mamá,” Gabriel struggled to speak in between coughs, “ _Es mi amigo — no mi_ novio.”

“What?” Her nose scrunched. “I no say — Livi have _girlfriends_. Why no say boyfriends?”

“It’s different, mamá,” Sombra snickered.

“Pah.” Mrs. Reyes flapped a dismissive hand at her children.

“Besides,” Gabriel argued on, “I bring Jesse over all the time.”

“Jesse is like our annoying brother.” Sombra couldn’t stop grinning. “Not your _boyfriend_.”

The table jostled as, judging from Sombra’s yelp, Gabriel kicked her under the table.

Jack smiled down at his plate as the conversation dissolved into animated Spanish. It was nice. Even though he didn’t understand more than a handful of words, it amused him. At home, dinner was eaten in near silence unless his father had something to discuss about the workings of the farm. It involved telling Jack what chores were expected of him over the next few days. Jack would nod his head, eat his food, and his mother would stare off into space.

The Reyes’ were entirely different; they spoke easily to each other in a lively cadence. It showed Jack where Gabriel had developed his dramatic tendencies. With several lingering glances, Jack enjoyed the sight of Gabriel so open and free. At home and with family, Gabriel’s guard had dropped and the expressions came and went freely across his face, and his hands moved as rapidly as his words. He was brimming with energy and articulated it in every way possible.

Jack’s heart ached with fondness as he found himself enamored by it all.

But he shouldn’t have come.

Mood sinking, Jack fixed his attention onto his plate. He ate while they chatted, vexed when amid all the conversation Mrs. Reyes still found time to push more food onto his plate. The whole experience gave him mixed feelings. He loved the noise. It felt peaceful and comfortable in the vivacious dining room, which was such a far cry from the strained silence at home. Yet it also made his chest twist with shame. He envied their close relationship, which only served to highlight the gaping fissure running through his own family.

The noise waned and when Jack lifted his head, he found all three of the Reyeses looking at him. He sat up a little straighter, not sure what he’d missed. An unknown question hung in the air. In a fit of nervousness, Jack babbled, “ _Lo siento, mi español es muy mal…_ ”

“No shit.” Sombra grinned.

Mrs. Reyes scolded her daughter’s language with a narrowed look before turning a smile on Jack. “It is fine.”

“Thank you for the food,” He said in an attempt to gloss over his embarrassment.

“ _De nada_.” She pushed more rice onto his plate, oblivious to his faint grimace. “You are welcome here, always.”

Jack pushed around the rice with his fork, too full to eat but too polite to stop Mrs. Reyes from adding more to his plate.

“I told you she would love him,” Sombra said while shaking her fork at Gabriel.

“Whatever,” Gabriel scoffed. “He’s got puppy eyes. Who doesn’t like a puppy?”

“Bluey blue eyes,” Jack joked and flashed a crooked grin across the table. Gabriel peered at him, suddenly quiet. It dawned on Jack, with rising terror, that the setting where Gabriel had last commented on his eyes — _bluey blue, bluest blue_ — had been on the dance floor, under the influence of drugs.

Cheeks burning, Jack tucked his face in toward his chest and feigned interest in the napkin draped across his lap.

A nudge against his shin brought his attention back up. Gabriel eyed him, curiously, before motioning to Jack’s full plate. “Finish eating. I want to show you something.”

“I am finished.” Jack side-glanced at Mrs. Reyes before silently pleading for Gabriel to save him. He must have eaten two plates worth of food. He spoke through his teeth in a strained whisper, “She keeps putting more on my plate.”

With a warm chuckle, Gabriel rose and stole Jack from the table. Sombra caught up to them at the bottom of the narrow staircase, her dark brown eyes brimming with laughter. She hooked her arms around the banister and locked her amusement on Gabriel. “Taking your boyfriend up to your room to make out?”

“Yes.” Gabriel didn’t even bat an eye at her jest. “Jealous?”

Sombra made kissy faces at him before skipping back toward the dining room.

Gabriel resumed climbing the stairs while Jack’s feet remained frozen on the second step. A joke. He knew it was nothing more than that, but it still made his heart race. The teasing about being Gabriel’s boyfriend made Jack blush and his heart ache with hopeful wishes, but the jest of making out in his room made him hot under the collar and formed a knot in his gut.

“Jack?”

Jerking into motion, Jack quickly crested the stairs. Gabriel studied him, a concerned crease between his brows. Faced with the agonizing scenario of Gabriel asking him what was wrong, or delving too close to why the teasing caused him to hesitate, Jack cut in before Gabriel found the right words, “Who’s Livi?”

The abrupt question worked, forcing Gabriel’s thoughts to shift gears. He smirked and headed toward his bedroom. “Sombra’s real name is Olivia. Sombra means shadow.” A confused look from Jack spurred Gabriel to elaborate. “When she was younger, she was practically glued to my side; she was my annoying little shadow.”

“I can’t imagine calling her Olivia,” Jack said as he stepped into the room, his eyes immediately snapping to the walls covered in posters ranging from movies, bands, to art. There were objects lining every surface. Rings. Colored pencils. Sketch books. CDs. Books. There were a set of action figures lining one shelf. Jack didn’t know where to look first. The amount of color and expression in the room clashed against the darkly clad, dour faced persona Gabriel presented at school.

Gabriel went right to the closet. “She’d probably punch you if you did.”

"And 'Gabi'?"

"Tread carefully, Johnny."

Smirking, Jack edged toward the dresser where one of the sketchbooks laid. He opened it, catching a brief glimpse of sketched skulls, before Gabriel leaped at him. Jack snapped his hand away, took a step back, and completely forgot about the drawings when faced with an actually skull-like face looming over him.

“Is that bone?” Jack asked while reaching up to run his fingers against the front of the mask Gabriel wore. It was definitely bone. It took a moment for Jack to understand what he was seeing. It was a pelvic bone of an animal. The wings of the hip pointed out from Gabriel’s head like horns while the holes in the main section of the hip were being used for eye holes. “Pelvic bone, right? A cow’s?”

“Of course a farm boy like you would know that,” Gabriel muttered as he slid off the mask and handed it over.

“I’ve found the remains of a few cows and deer over the years.” Jack turned the mask over. The gaps in the mask were veiled with a thin black material and straps had been fashioned to the bone to hold the mask in place. Jack carefully put it on. “It’s heavy.”

Gabriel smiled broadly while running his fingers over the front of the mask. Despite the bone separating them, Jack felt the pass of Gabriel’s fingers over his face. He went still while his heart went into overdrive.

“I’m debating whether or not to paint it,” Gabriel said as his fingers explored the bone.

“It looks good like this,” Jack whispered.

Gabriel nodded. “I’m going for something along the lines of druidic death god for Halloween. What do you think?”

Transfixed by Gabriel’s smile and the excitement radiating off him, Jack couldn’t think beyond the desire to kiss Gabriel. He wanted to immerse himself in it. Ached for it. Just one kiss to drown in. One kiss to forget, for just a moment, how fucked he was.

Jack retreated a step, swept off the mask and extended it to Gabriel. “I think it’s awesome.”

“What are you going to be?”

“I haven’t thought about it,” Jack said, turning his attention away from Gabriel’s beaming smile to examine the nearest poster. Metallica. Next to it, as if intentionally wanting to create a juxtapose, was a beach poster; a cool, sandy beach looking out at an evening sky of pinks and purples. Jack’s gaze flicked between the two as his hands slipped into his pockets.

Gabriel nudged his chest with the point of the bone mask. “You better not go buy some rubber mask from Walmart.”

Jack frowned. “I haven’t dressed up for Halloween in years.”

“So?”

Jack’s shoulders lifted in a helpless shrug. “I don’t know what to do!”

The mask was returned to its nook in the closet before Gabriel began listing off on his fingers. “It has to be scary. No stupid shit. No comic book characters. You need to make it yourself.”

“You’re giving me rules to follow?”

“Yup.” Gabriel grinned wolfishly and, while Jack floundered for an argument to absolve himself from the task set before him, Gabriel stalked closer, until he stood just short of brushing noses with Jack. “And if you don’t follow the rules…”

“If I… “ The words trailed off as it took every bit of willpower to keep his gaze from dipping to Gabriel’s lips. His thoughts moved at the speed of a glacier while his heart scampered away. He could smell Gabriel’s cologne and feel the heat from his skin. Jack's fingers itched with the need to pull Gabriel in those last few inches. It took far too long for him to catch on to Gabriel’s jest; a jab at Jack’s stand-off over gun safety.

“If I don’t follow the rules, I don’t get to learn about Halloween.. ?”

“You won’t get to come along.”

Jack didn’t care about parading around in a costume; the allure laid in spending time with Gabriel. Rationally he knew that he needed to put a buffer between them but, emotionally, Jack clung to every opportunity and excuse to be close to Gabriel. They’d never be anything more than friends, but Jack continued to cherish the sweet, self-inflicted torture of it.

“Well.” Jack wet his lips as he grasped for the weakest of arguments. “All you have is a mask.”

“I’m going to buy some fabric and make a robe to go with it.”

The words replayed in Jack’s head before they made sense. “You’re going to sew?”

Gabriel smirked as he backed off, shrugging indifferently. “Got a problem with a guy that can sew?”

“No.” Everything about Gabriel served to heighten Jack’s interest and made him want to learn more. “You just don’t seem like the type.”

Gabriel’s eyelids drooped as he gave Jack a sly look. He canted his head to one side and there was a dangerous, predatory grace to the way he turned to face Jack. He asked, in a playful tone of silk and challenge, “And what type do I seem like, Jack?”

Unsure whether the question was a trap, or a flirtation, Jack’s stomach tightened against the fluttering sensation of butterflies. The latter notion was thrust aside. Jack shrugged, acutely aware of his pattering heart but determined not to let it show. “Tall, dark, and mysterious?”

“Isn’t the phrase ‘tall, dark, and handsome’?”

Jack deliberately appraised Gabriel with a slow head to toe once over. He then shook his head and sucked in a small, hissing breath. “Not that good looking.”

“Ouch.” Gabriel clutched at his heart while grinning. “My own boyfriend calling me ugly.”

The blasé attitude baffled Jack. The teasing kept throwing him for a loop because his feelings were there. Gabriel hardly batted an eye because it was nothing but a joke. A cruel joke. Jack’s gaze cut away. “As fun as it’s been making out in your room, I should get going.”

“Yeah,” Gabriel’s tone softened. “Okay.”

The stairs creaked as they descended. Gabriel trailed after Jack, following him out the door and over to his truck. An uncomfortable tension clawed at the back of Jack’s neck. He paused with his hand on the door handle and regarded Gabriel’s lingering presence.

Gabriel stood a couple feet away, his posture lax and his gaze on the empty street. “Thanks for coming,” he said.

The words felt empty as they hung in the cold, evening air. Jack found himself waiting for more while questions weighed on his tongue. But, as always, Jack swallowed them down. He bottled up the emotions and mirrored Gabriel’s indifference. “Sure thing.”

“Jack.”

Expression carefully neutral, Jack turned away from his truck. He fiddled with his keys; the clicking of metal the only sound to disturb the following silence. Their gazes met, lingered, and Jack’s stomach turned with all things he was leaving unsaid.

A brisk wind whipped across the lawn. Gabriel hunched his shoulders against the chill, shifted his weight, and took a half-step toward the house. The small step gave momentum for Gabriel to keep walking. He tossed Jack a parting glance. “See you at school.”

Jack nodded, climbed into his truck, and spent the drive home telling his heart to go to hell.  
  


:::  
_I feel alive when I’m close to the madness  
No easy love could ever make me feel the same_  
:::


	10. Darkest Days - Stabbing Westward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shout out to @MorelTheMarcel for some amazing fanart of this story  
> Check it out :)

:::  
_There are times  
When I'm just a shell  
When I do not feel anything for anyone  
All I feel is hollow & bruised  
Used up & mis-used  
Forced to be someone I don't  
Want to be_  
:::

“I’m going to be an old sawbones,” Angela said.

Hangers scraped along the metal rack as Jack and Angela browsed through the used clothing. It had taken Jack several days to work past the majority of his heart ache and begin agonizing over what to do for Halloween. He’d sought out Angela’s help and she’d brought him to a thrift shop to find inspiration. The weird, musty smell of mothballs and mold only inspired Jack to leave and never return. He stayed, determined to cobble together a costume on par with Gabriel’s standards.

He pushed another hanger aside, growing more and more disappointed with his prospects. At that rate, he’d be dressing as a hobo, which was its own level of scary. It’d work, but Jack doubted it’d impress Gabriel. It shouldn’t matter. He shouldn’t need Gabriel’s praise, but he craved it. He longed for the next moment with Gabriel, the next smile, the next bit of words that burrowed into his heart.

“That’s like a medieval doctor, right?” Jack asked.

“I have this leather butcher apron I’m going to splatter with fake blood and my mom found this old head mirror I could use.”

Another push of hanger revealed a worn, purple sweater vest. Jack grimaced. “I don’t know what to be.”

Heaving a sympathetic sigh, Angela moved to the next rack of clothing. They browsed for a short while longer, offering Jack the option of dressing in an old man’s funeral clothes, before Angela shot him a quick grin. “So I’ve been talking to Vincent.”

Even though Jack anticipated the subject from Angela, the topic still made him bristle. His shoulders raised and his eyes darted to the side. His relationship with Vincent hadn’t grown past sharing pictures of dogs, but they talked. The line between them remained open and offered the possibility for more. Jack wasn’t ready to take that step, but he liked having the option within his grasp.

“He likes you,” Angela sang.

“I know,” He snapped then pressed his lips together. It hardly seemed fair to date Vincent when his mind continued to fantasize about Gabriel. Explaining that to Angela, however, would only complicate matters further. She was already adamant about getting him into a relationship heedless of his father’s disapproval. Ignorant of how her match-making efforts were attempts at lighting the fuse of a powder keg.

“So?” She prompted, eager for more.

“So?” He echoed with a faint annoyance.

“Do you like him?”

“He’s nice.”

Angela puffed at her bangs. “Are you going to ask him out?”

“ _Angie_.”

“Go to a movie with him, Jack. It’s not going to kill you.”

“It might,” he muttered, then growled as Angela pinned him with a look. “Is there any way I can convince you to allow me to pretend to be straight until after graduation?”

“It’s not like you’re going to go off to college and have a wild, experimental phase. I know, and you know, that you’re going to stay at home and take over the farm.”

The truth of it drove into him like a railroad spike and left his ears ringing. His fingers stilled over the hangers as he asked himself why he was bothering to look for a costume. Why did he bother doing anything at all? He should just go home and put his energy into what mattered. The farm was his future. Not Vincent. Not Gabriel. Humoring these notions of _more_ were daggers to the heart. It hurt, and it would hurt more when he finally ripped them out.

He shoved several hangers aside. The scrap of metal sharp in his ears, accenting the bitter anger in his chest. “Who else is supposed to take over? I’m all they’ve got. After what happened—” The words caught in his throat. “I’m all they’ve got.”

Angela sighed, “I just want to see you happy.”

“Just—“ _leave it alone_ , “—help me make a costume.”

* * *

“So,” Gabriel began while tilting his head. “What are you?”

Suddenly self-conscious about his costume, Jack examined himself. Angela had spotted the motorcycle jacket. It was red, black and beat to hell and back. They slashed it up a bit more and added spikes along the shoulders and arms. It was a size too small for his broad frame, so it hung open over the torn up white shirt he wore underneath. Ripped work jeans, fingerless gloves, his empty thigh holster, and a retro hockey mask completed the look.

Angela had gone the extra mile, dusting him with white powder, spraying his hair with a temporary white dye, and smudging black makeup around his eyes until he resembled a skull. Jack had thought, as he looked himself over in her full length mirror, that he looked good. More than good. Yet being pinned under Gabriel’s scrutiny made his confidence crumble.

“It’s like Mad Max meets zombie apocalypse,” Gabriel’s head tilted to the other side as he prodded one of the shoulder spikes with one blackened finger. “Or Friday the 13th meets Thriller.”

Jack felt silly next to Gabriel’s custom robe of layered black cloth and netting texture. It flowed around him like thick shadows, especially when they walked along the darker parts of the street. When he wore the bone mask, he appeared a foot taller and the streetlights haloed the bone with eerie glow.

Gabriel’s hand, blacked from fingertips to mid-palm, raised to trace the scar visible above Jack’s sagging shirt collar. He immediately jerked his hand back. “Oh shit, that’s a real scar. I thought it was makeup.”

“Uh,” Jack elegantly replied, his mind annoyingly blank from the unexpected touch. “I, uh, fell on the plow a couple years ago.”

“It hurt?”

Jack ran his thumb along the top of the scar. “I don’t remember it hurting. I was kinda dazed by the fall, or shocked by all the blood. I remember walking back to the house and asking my mom to drive me to the hospital. After I got stitches, it hurt like hell.”

After losing Ben, the last thing his mother needed was for her only son to walk into the kitchen, glassy eyed and soaked in blood. She had been hysterical, clutching at him while he calmly asked for a towel to hold over the wound.

“Dang.” Gabriel’s gaze lingered on the scar.

“My ribs stopped it from being worse.”

Gabriel chewed on his bottom lip, still staring. Jack traced the scar down, watching as Gabriel’s eyes tracked the motion. Memories surfaced of Gabriel’s lips pressing against a different scar. Up his arm, his shoulder. It wasn’t hard to transfer the memory to his imagination; those same lips following the scar down his chest.

Angela’s appearance, hopping down the porch steps to land between them, was a welcome interruption. She wore a disheveled lab coat over a butcher’s apron. Her hair was swept up in a wild, messy bun, corralled by the old head mirror she wore and, over it all, she’d splattered fake blood.

“It’s set,” she said while hooking her arm with Jack’s. “You can stay the night, Jack. My parents said if anyone else needs a place to stay, they can crash here too, and they also said to not drink too much.”

Jack’s eyes widened. “Who said anything about drinking?”

“Oh please.” Angela rolled her eyes. “We’re a bunch of teenagers going out on Halloween. They’re not stupid. They just want us to be safe.”

Gabriel slung an arm over Jack’s shoulders from the opposite side and steered them all toward where they’d left Jesse to smoke. “Can’t do any hell raising without breaking a few rules.”

“Live a little, Jack,” Angela added. “You need it.”

“Yeah, Jack,” Gabriel mimicked Angela’s higher tone and cadence. "Live a little."

The weight of Gabriel’s arm was comforting and Jack did his best not to lean into it. “What exactly are you planning?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see.” Gabriel shook Jack by the shoulders and let him go. Or, he tried to pull away, but the netting of his elaborate robe caught around the spikes of Jack’s costume. Gabriel snickered. He’d been in high spirits since they’d met up. Quick to smile. Laugh. Nothing could damper Gabriel’s mood; not on Halloween.

They awkwardly spun around each other, a mix of swears and laughs, until Angela intervened.

“Thanks Doc,” Gabriel sang.

Jesse walked up to them, spurs jingling with each step. He'd only made small changes to his wardrobe to appease the holiday. A red serape around his shoulders, a gaudy rodeo belt buckle, genuine metal spurs with rust spots, and western gun belt loaded with a small nerf gun. He waved his phone, communicating he’d just gotten off a call, and said to Gabriel, “Sojourn is fine with supplyin’ as long as she can bring along a couple of friends.”

Gabriel grunted, “Depends on who she’s bringing.”

“College friends, she said. Emily and uh, Jean-Bap-somethin’ or another.”

Jack picked at the edge of his empty thigh holster, wary of the unfamiliar names. Between Gabriel and Jesse stretched a dark network of friends. Associates. Suppliers. Jack had yet to meet anyone worth their mettle. Liao was a sophomore in college, a dedicated weekend warrior. Then there had been Ashe, trouble masked behind a smooth draw of whiskey.

Gabriel considered the names before shrugging at Jesse. “The more the merrier.”

The wariness must have shown on Jack’s face, because Angela leaned against his side. “Want me to invite Vincent?”

Already pale from the costume make-up, Jack mutedly stared at Angela as the blood drained from his face. He did not want to get anyone’s hopes up. Vincent’s or Angela’s. Nor did he want to juggle his personal issues while amid a group of peers and strangers. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?” Gabriel, observant as ever, flicked a look between Jack and Angela.

Jack shifted his weight. “It’s not really his thing.”

“This really isn’t your thing either,” Angela argued.

“Invite him.” Gabriel donned his skull mask; his words warping into a hollow echo. “Let’s go.”

* * *

The whole team did not make the Halloween rendezvous. Sombra, Hana, and Genji decided to go around, door to door, collecting candy with plans to stay up the rest of the night playing games at Hana’s house. Mako lived on a street popular for trick-or-treaters and he’d stayed home to pass out candy. Jamison didn’t join them, having muttered something about sensory overload. Satya, simply, had better things to do with her time.

Lena came, but apparently missed Gabriel’s memo about what counted as an acceptable costume. She arrived wearing a plastic hulk mask and two large, green fists. She made a show of it, roaring and pummeling Jesse with the foam fists while he pelted her with nerf darts.

Vincent showed up with absolutely no costume and, despite Gabriel’s unimpressed snort, put forth a brave smile.

Embarrassed by his sorta boyfriend’s lack of effort, Jack offered his hockey mask to Vincent. It earned him a beaming smile, from both Vincent and Angela, and a sick feeling in his stomach. Jack washed it down with the can of cheap beer Sojourn handed him. She was a dark-skinned girl with a tough exterior and a slyness that mirrored Gabriel’s cleverness. Her friends were surprisingly nice. Emily, a freckled faced redhead, and Baptiste, a black guy with a great smile and an even better laugh.

They walked the streets, Gabriel often in the lead, parting the trick-or-treaters by presence alone. He took a particular delight in seeing mothers herd their children across the street instead of passing by him.

“He’s really into Halloween,” Vincent observed, under his breath, from where he walked next to Jack.

“He looks awesome,” Jack said, nearing the end of his second beer. He never had occasion or opportunity to drink. The sour taste of beer was far from appealing, but the effects were what he chased with each swallow. Some mood lightening to help him get through the night, torn between his raging crush on Gabriel, Vincent’s not so subtle interest, and the constant fear of being outed in front of everyone.

Vincent’s smile wavered. “Not a little creepy?”

A swell of defensiveness bubbled behind Jack’s thinly pressed lips. Maybe Gabriel was a bit over the top. Dramatic. But Jack liked it. Gabriel had an intensity to him. Passion. An energy so bright and vivid Jack couldn’t help but be drawn to it.

“Isn’t a Halloween costume supposed to be creepy?” Jack asked before throwing back the rest of his beer.

“I mean,” Vincent said, then shook his head. “Never mind.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Jack glowered, but left it alone. He wanted to walk away, but it’d leave Vincent alone among a group of strangers. Angela had taken a shining to Baptiste after discovering he was a pre-med student. She’d abandoned them in favor of interrogating Baptiste on every aspect of his studies. Lena wasn’t an option either. While she would have been more than receptive and friendly toward Vincent, she’d been nothing but two left feet ever since she’d been introduced to Emily.

Jesse, Gabriel, and Sojourn walked ahead of the group, engrossed in their own conversation.

Slowly their ambling left the residential blocks, past the business fronts, and down along the long, gloomy sidewalk edged by a wrought iron fence. Beyond the bars, draped in shadows and moonlight, headstones stared out at them. A chill prickled at the back of Jack’s neck. His steps slowed, then stopped all together as the head of the group turned to walk the dirt road into the cemetery. Jack tilted his head back to read the iron letters arching over their heads. _Hilcrest_.

A pang of guilt cut through his chest and he stepped back.

“Scared?” Gabriel’s voice taunted. He stood in the center of the dirt road, the bone mask eerily still, staring at Jack with empty eye sockets. The robe stirred beneath the bone, stretching and yawning with the darkness blanketing the graveyard; black cutting through the silvery-blue of moonlight.

“No,” Jack said; it had nothing to do with fear.

The bone mask canted to the side. Death crooked one blackened finger at him, beckoning him to venture away from the light and into the dark. A small grin tugged at the edges of Jack’s lips. He eased forward, feet as heavy as cinder blocks, but once he passed the threshold, his steps lightened.

Vincent hovered at his elbow, a concerned crease pinching between his brows.

In the dark, the path through the graveyard held no real meaning. Jack stuck to the narrow, dirt roads while others picked their way through the headstones. His brother’s plot wasn’t far. It’d been years since he’d last paid his respect. The small grave called to him; a beacon at the edges of his peripherals even though the night masked the layout of the graveyard.

As a group they settled near a small mausoleum and Lena immediately launched into a ghost story. A bottle of whiskey was passed around. Jack found he preferred the burn of hard liquor over the sour wash of beer he’d been drinking earlier. He settled against the monument, only distantly aware of how Lena lost track of her story whenever she looked at Emily. She would stumble over her words, flush crimson, then apologize before restarting.

Angela remained with Baptiste, looking almost as starry eyed as Lena. Gabriel was — Jack dropped his gaze, but not quick enough. A glimpse revealed Gabriel and Sojourn apart from the group. Eyes half-lidded, their faces close, and sharing a flirtatious smile. Jack’s stomach churned. The alcohol threatened to bubble back up. He clamped a hand over his mouth and closed his eyes, willing the queasiness away.

“Hey.”

Jesse, the odd man out, laid in the grass in front of Jack and Vincent. A rolled joint replaced the cigarette that normally perched at the corner of Jesse's lips. He took a hit, held the smoke, then pushed it out over his shoulder before offering the joint. Even in the dark his brown eyes glittered with mischief.

Jack accepted it, remembering a warm, summer evening, sitting along the irrigation ditch with their feet in the water. Jesse had offered him a cigarette back then, grinning at him like he was now. Smoking with Jesse had been a small rebellion against his father, a brief reprieve from the weight bearing down on his shoulders.

Holding Jesse’s interested gaze, Jack mimicked his actions. It burned his windpipe, but he managed to hold in the smoke a full second before coughing it all out. Jesse chuckled and patted Jack’s thigh. The touch lingered, reluctant in the way it slowly slid off. Jack questioned it with a look, but Jesse’s attention swiveled to Vincent.

A familiar, devilish smile graced Jesse’s features as he extended his other hand to Vincent. “Name’s Jesse.”

“Vince.” They shook hands. “Nice costume.”

“It’s not a costume,” Jack said while offering the joint to Vincent.

When Vincent turned it down, Jesse edged closer and gently took it from Jack’s fingers. His fingertips slowly drew along the outside of Jack’s hand. Goosebumps pricked along Jack's scalp and down his spine. Meaningless, he told himself, but began to doubt it when Jesse didn’t withdraw, but instead made himself comfortable by resting the back of his head against Jack’s knee while shamelessly kicking his boots (mindful of the spurs) into Vincent’s lap.

He met Jack’s questioning gaze, held it, then his dark eyes shifted back to Vincent, teasing him with a quick wink. “Part of it is a costume, I’ll let you guess which part.”

Vincent, unperturbed by the invasion of space, smirked. “The hat.”

“Mm, nope,” Jesse drawled before taking another hit.

“No?” Vincent looked to Jack for confirmation. “He’s lying.”

Bemused by Jesse’s behavior, Jack blinked up at Vincent and managed a crooked grin. “He wears it everywhere.”

“You’re both lying.”

“M’fraid not, darlin’.” Jesse set his wrist against Jack’s other knee, holding the joint up in a silent offering. Jack took it, if only because he was curious about the wandering touches. Sure enough, once free of the smoke, Jesse’s hand flattened against the inside of Jack’s thigh.

Jack’s breath caught and his eyes snapped to Jesse’s face. The shock deepened when Jesse’s fingers pressed more firmly into the material of his jeans. It had to be the beer, or the weed, something — _anything_ — to rationalize Jesse’s actions. Jesse was an avid flirt. It never meant much. But the touches were new. As was the heated look that slowly trailed down Jack’s chest before trekking back up. 

_Jesse is hitting on me?_ Jack’s thoughts scratched like a broken record, caught in groove, replaying the same phrase over and over. _Jesse is hitting on me._

Right in front of Vincent too.

Jack rolled the thought around in his head while he took a second hit. He coughed less. Hardly noticed it as his mind wandered, toying with the scenario of drawing Jesse away from the group under the pretext of wanting to talk; press him up against one of the trees, all busy hands and hungry lips.

The idea startled Jack. A quick look at Vincent didn’t prompt the same thoughts. Jack didn’t dare turn his gaze toward Gabriel, too afraid of what he might see. His mind still drew on the parallels between Jesse and Gabriel and Jack wanted to laugh at himself. He liked _bad_ boys. Untamed, vibrant, and challenging. They both had bite to them, they both prodded Jack out of his shell, where as Vincent…

Well, he was nice.

Jack handed the joint back and nudged Jesse out of his lap before standing. “Be right back — need to piss.”

A lie, but he needed to escape the temptation, even if part of him hoped Jesse would follow. A backward glance showed him still lounging in the grass in front of Vincent. It was for the best, Jack thought as he stumbled away.

It took a few steps before Jack could balance his floating head over his clumsy feet. He palmed the side of the mausoleum, using it as a crutch while he gained his bearings. Even in the dark, and the misfortune of catching his foot against hidden headstones along the way, Jack knew where he was going.

The stone was cold. A smooth arch of granite with black lettering. Jack’s hands brushed over the smooth edges and straightened the old toys left to weather around the base. Hot Wheels had been Ben’s favorite. Jack pruned the taller stalks of grass away from the headstone. His hands lingered over the wilted flowers scattered over the yellowing grass. They were old, but no more than a week; the tell-tale signs of his mother's last visit.

Jack rubbed one of the dried petals between his fingers. He’d hoped Genji’s presence at the house would make her visit less. It had been almost ten years and she was still visiting Ben’s grave, ripping open the wound so it’d never heal.

He swept away the wilted flowers before sitting back on his heels and mutedly staring at the epitaph.

_Gone too soon._

Jack wanted to say something, but couldn’t find the words in the mess of thoughts swirling in his head.

The crunch of autumn grass drew Jack’s attention. Several headstones away, a pair of soulless eyes stared at him from a mask of bone, floating on top of a shapeless body of shifting shadows. Jack's heart stuttered and he slowly blinked to clear the ghostly visage.

“You should see your face,” Death said, amused.

“Take the mask off, it’s messing with my head.”

Gabriel slid the mask off, revealing his grin. As he walked over, he swept back his damp hair with his free hand. The night painted him in muted shades of blue and the moonlight caught in his eyes. Jack studied his face for a long moment. The thick, expressive brows, the broad nose, the wide mouth, and the shadow of a beard growing along his jawline. Rugged, severe, but no less handsome.

Jack averted his gaze and softly snorted. “I changed my mind, put it back on.”

“You shouldn’t wander off.” Gabriel nudged him with a boot tip.

Frankly, given how entangled Gabriel had been with Sojourn, Jack was surprised his departure was even noticed. Jack squinted at the far end of the graveyard. “Because zombies might eat me?”

“No, smart ass, because you’ve had a few drinks and I doubt you’ve ever smoked weed before tonight.”

It bothered him as much as it flattered him to know Gabriel had been keeping tabs on him. “I’m fine.”

“Yeah?”

“Just needed some space.”

“I’d feel better if you’d come back to the group.”

Annoyed, Jack sharply waved him off. “Everyone is either making out, or trying to make out, so I’d rather not.”

A quiet moment passed, heightened by the silent graves. Then Gabriel sighed, softly, and sat next to Jack. He leaned against him, startling Jack’s heart into a canter.

“Benjamin Morrison,” Gabriel read the nearest headstone. “This your grandpa or something?”

Jack frowned, not sure if he wanted to delve into the subject. Instead of answering, he watched as Gabriel read the dates and did the math. Benjamin Morrison had died nine years ago, at the tender age of five.

“Cousin?” Gabriel tried again.

The room in which Gabriel had stayed still bore the signs of Ben. The toys were gone, along with the clothes and children’s books. But the furniture was still youthful, the paint on the walls still cheerful. It was more than just a guest room. Then there was his mother, eager to have more children in the house to fill the hole Ben had left.

Jack wondered how much of it Gabriel had noticed during his brief stay at the farm. Judging by the forlorn look Gabriel settled on him, Jack guessed Gabriel was as observant as ever.

“Brother,” Jack confirmed the unspoken guess.

“What happened?”

Jack's gaze returned to the headstone as his tongue settled like a lead weight in his mouth. They’d been on vacation, window shopping along the main thoroughfare. Being only seven at the time, Jack remembered being hot, bored, and irritated that his parents wouldn’t hurry up.

The series of events played out so smoothly, over and done with in under a minute. Ben dropped his toy car and their mother let go of his hand so he could pick it up, but her attention remained on the window display of the boutique.

But Jack had witnessed it.

He had watched, not saying a word, as his brother stepped down from the sidewalk curb and out into the street. What had drawn Ben’s attention, Jack would never know. All he knew was that he wanted Ben to get in trouble, because maybe then his parents would be mad enough to stop shopping. He’d made the conscious decision to not grab Ben and pull him back. Instead he waited, the tattle curling on his tongue but waiting for the perfect moment to be released.

Then something terrible happened.

A squeal of brakes. A soft thud. Screaming.

His mother blamed herself for letting go of Ben’s hand, Jack blamed himself for being a selfish brat.

His father blamed them both.

“Sorry,” Gabriel said into the persisting silence. “That probably brings up bad memories.”

Given time, Jack might have answered. It was difficult to explain it without running into statements like: _I’m the reason he’s dead. I’m the reason my family is broken. I’m a selfish piece of shit. I wish it was me instead._

Saying Ben got hit by a car was a satisfactory answer, but Jack hated how explained away it felt. Like it was no one’s fault when clearly it had been his. Everyone was just too polite to say it to his face. Almost a decade later, and the pain was still sharp as ever. Ben’s passing had left a tear in his family and none of them knew how to mend it. They ignored it. They let it fester and rot through each other.

“Jack?” Gabriel’s hand passed feather light along his lower back.

“At the funeral,” Jack said while hastily brushing fingers under his eyes and wiping the moisture on his pant leg. “My grandfather pulled me aside.” He set his hand on Gabriel’s shoulder, mimicking the scene. “He gave me this real serious look and told me that because I no longer had a brother to share the burden, I would have to become a ‘jack of all trades’.”

Gabriel studied him for a couple seconds before slowly smiling. “So you told everyone your name was Jack.”

“I was seven. I took it very literally.”

“That’s—”

“Stupid, like I said before.”

“No, it’s— “ Gabriel bit down on his lip before lightly shrugging. “Adorable. It says a lot about you.”

Jack arched a brow. “That I’m adorable and take things too seriously?”

“Yes.” Gabriel playfully shoved him. “ _And_ that you take your duty to family to heart. Also that you’re mediocre. The saying is ‘jack of all trades, master of none’, so it explains why you’re so painfully average.”

“Ha.” Jack pushed back. “Very funny.”

“ _Muy cómico_ ,” Gabriel mocked.

“Fuck off,” Jack said and ducked his head, his cheeks burning.

Gabriel caught him around the shoulders and pulled him into a headlock. “You’re _so_ adorable, Jackie.”

“Shut up!” Jack shoved at the arm, then put his shoulder to Gabriel’s chest and pushed him over. He scrambled to capture Gabriel’s blackened hands, but got caught up in the netting layer of the robe.

Snickering, Gabriel arched his back, twisted his hips, and with the ease of someone who had wrestled for two years, flipped their position. Jack’s back hit the ground with a soft thud. His breath left him in a startled gust as he gazed up at Gabriel’s grinning face. So close. Jack relaxed under the weight pressing him down.

Gabriel eased back an inch while keeping a palm firm against Jack’s sternum. “And so mediocre.”

His eyes were deeper than the night and more vibrant than the starry sky above them. Jack abandoned his hold on Gabriel’s forearm and reached for his face instead. _If I pull him down_ , Jack lips parted with the thought and his gaze slipped to Gabriel’s mouth. His hand made it as far as gripping Gabriel’s shirt collar with loose fingers before his heart panicked, fluttering wildly in his chest.

A blank expression slowly eclipsed Gabriel's grin.

Courage fading, Jack released the shirt and let his hand fall limp against the dry grass. Gabriel didn’t move, not at first. When he did lean back, putting distance between them, it was done with a slow uncertainty. His hand, which remained on Jack’s chest, lingered a few seconds longer.

“Let’s get you back,” He said with a weak grin and rose. “Otherwise that college boy is going to steal your girlfriend.”

That was the moment. All Jack had to do was open his mouth, push out the words, and stumble through an awkward confession. _She’s not my girlfriend. We’re just friends. Yeah. In fact, I like guys. I like you. A lot._ His tongue remained rigid behind his teeth and the air refused to leave his lungs.

Jack stared at the blackened hand Gabriel offered him. His own hand felt jittery as he took it, allowing Gabriel to heft him upright. Jack teetered, the alcohol throwing off his balance, and he grasped Gabriel’s shoulder to steady himself. His head swam, paddling like a confused puppy caught in the current of a river. The booze in his gut churned and for a heart stopping second, Jack feared he might throw up all over his crush.

“Gabe,” Jack said, the words burbling out instead. “I’m not — she’s — I like — I like — ”

Gabriel held him steady with one strong hand and arched a questioning brow. “You like… ?”

The graveyard stopped spinning around and Jack managed to find balance over his own feet. His heart raced and his thoughts screamed in alarm. Jack mentally scrambled to discredit his disjointed confession. He passed a nervous hand over his babbling lips before blurting, “I like you — h-how you dance, er — skate."

A beat passed, then Gabriel cracked up. As he laughed, he squeezed at Jack’s arm. "I think you've had enough fun for one night.”

Mortified, Jack twisted away to hide the shame burning across his face. He said nothing as Gabriel steered him back toward the mausoleum. His mood darkened further when Sojourn appeared and slotted herself against Gabriel’s side. Jack broke away from them as a bolt of jealousy forked through him.

“Want to hit up a party?” Sojourn asked Gabriel.

Jack couldn’t get away from them fast enough. It hurt to see the arm Gabriel put around her waist and to hear the playful rumble in his voice as he replied. A girl. Jack didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell. He wished his heart would get the message. A hole was burning in his chest as he walked over to Vincent and Jesse.

“You alright?” Jesse asked.

“Fine,” Jack spat out before holding his hand out to Vincent. “Want to get out of here?”

While Jesse frowned, Vincent’s face brightened. He smiled, a touch uncertain, and took Jack’s hand. Together they headed toward the exit. Along the way, Jack caught Angela’s approving smile and, with a stab of anger, Jack hated her. He hated everyone at that moment, even Vincent who struggled to match his brisk stride.

The walk to Vincent's car elapsed in silence. They settled into the bucket seats, the heat running, and stared out the front window. Vincent ran his hands over the steering wheel while Jack stewed with bitter thoughts.

“Where are we going?” Vincent asked timidly.

“Angela’s.”

The world beyond the glass moved as Vincent pulled away from the curb. Streetlights passed, throwing swathes of orange light over Jack’s pensive frown. As Vincent drove, Jack tore apart the fond memories he held for Gabriel. He wanted to scream, to cry, but most of all he wanted to go home. It remained bottled up, a storm caught in a glass bauble; only the furrow along his brow, the persisting silence, gave away his inner strife.

The car eased up in front of Angela’s house. It took a while before Jack could gather up enough motivation to move. He turned to Vincent, to bid him goodnight, and was met with eager lips. Stunned, it took Jack a moment longer to fully register what was happening. Vincent’s hands were on his face, not pulling him in, but holding him in place.

Jack’s heart jumped. The kiss lacked the mind-numbing electricity of Gabriel’s lips, but it was nice. Jack closed his eyes and gave in to it. He carded his fingers into Vincent’s soft hair and urged him closer, deepening the kiss, drawing every last bit of comfort he could from it. Vincent made a small, wounded sound and Jack wanted to hear it again. He wanted the heat stirring in his groin to burn through him, to incinerate Gabriel from his thoughts. He wanted to use Vincent to get the infuriating need out of his system.

When Jack finally broke the kiss, abruptly turning his face aside, the mess in his heart was worse than before.

He studied Vincent’s face, his widened pupils and slack mouth, then stifled a laugh upon noticing the white, costume makeup smeared across Vincent’s mouth and chin. He gently turned Vincent’s head toward the rear view mirror.

“Oh my god.” Vincent frantically wiped at his face.

“Sorry about that.”

“No! It’s — it’s fine,” Vincent quietly answered, each swipe of sleeve revealing his blush.

No, Jack thought with a pang of dismay, nothing was fine. Nothing at all. He stared out the window and up at Angela’s house, surrendering to the role being pressed onto him. “Want to go to a movie?”

“Yeah.” Vincent smiled. “I’d like that.”

“Tomorrow night?” Jack asked, the words like ash in his mouth.

“Sure.”

He just wanted to move on, to claw his way out of the pit swallowing him alive. He nodded to Vincent and slipped out of the car before his stomach could upend itself over the floor mats. Vincent left and, for a long while afterward, Jack sat on the porch steps, staring at the cracks in the sidewalk.

He pinched at the bridge of his nose and covered his eyes with his palm. The night’s events replayed through his mind, hammering down the coffin nails of his despair. His head hurt and his heart wallowed under the weight seeking to crush him. It was all too much. He just wanted it to _stop_.

When would it stop?

:::  
_Have I failed somehow or some way  
Will the weight of today  
Finally pull me down to drown  
In the depths of despair  
Where I am alone  
Except for my rage_  
:::


	11. Numb - Linkin Park

:::  
_I'm tired of being what you want me to be  
Feeling so faithless, lost under the surface  
I don't know what you're expecting of me  
Put under the pressure of walking in your shoes_  
:::

As soon as the lights went out in the theater, Jack took Vincent’s hand and threaded their fingers together, but it failed to ease the angry knot in his chest or the terror whipping at his heart. Vincent’s skin was warm under his cold fingers. All through the previews Jack rubbed his thumb against the side of Vincent’s, comparing the smooth skin to how he imagined Gabriel’s felt; rough, like the rest of him, maybe calloused from handling a hockey stick. Definitely larger, and longer, than Vincent’s slender digits. Would Gabriel even be the type to hold hands in the dark of a theater? Or would he settle one strong hand on a thigh, teasing it with a squeeze every so often.

Jack focused on the movie screen, painfully aware of the history with Gabriel he needed to bury to make things work with Vincent. With a bit of time and effort, Jack hoped his feelings would change. Vincent was nice, but Jack didn’t really know him beyond a shared love of dogs and a baseline attraction. If he could just _forget_ , then he could see himself becoming fond of Vincent.

Jack lightly kissed the side of Vincent’s neck — lavender and sandalwood, not spice and earth — and, since Vincent relaxed into the touch, Jack lingered there. He drew his nose along the smooth skin of Vincent’s slender neck, finding his shoulders equally slim. Nothing like Gabriel’s athletic build, the muscles he worked in the gym lifting weights. Jack closed his eyes as he thought about how Gabriel’s neck and shoulders looked in just the tank top he wore during team practices, and how much wanted to sink his—

“Ow!” Vincent jerked away.

Jack drew out of his daydream with the taste of skin on his teeth. “Sorry.”

Vincent rubbed at the junction of his neck and shoulder. “I’m not really into biting.”

“Sorry,” Jack murmured again.

Bitterly he bet Gabriel would like being bit. How he’d probably return the bite, pin Jack down and nip a tormenting line down the side of his neck. Jack shifted in his seat, his pants having grown uncomfortably tight with a stemming arousal that had little to do with Vinent. Inwardly Jack cursed while his imagination continued to overlay the situation with what he really wanted. Someone strong enough to pin him to the wall and kiss the breath out of him, not the sweet, soft boy next to him. Someone unafraid to use their teeth. Someone who wasn’t docile, who growled at him in challenge. Someone smart, clever, and — _fuck_ — he wanted Gabriel.

“Are you going to watch the movie?” Vincent asked.

Jack gave him a hooded look. “Wasn’t planning on it.”

A flicker of worry crossed Vincent’s face and Jack shrunk back, hating himself. Hated that he wanted more, that he wanted to use Vincent to scratch an itch. Scratch it until it bled, then claw at it until he could dig it out of himself. Disgust welled inside of him, turning his guts to sludge. It wasn't fair. Even hidden away in the dark, the weight of his father’s judgement was relentless. It closed around him, reminding him of the cage trapping him. The glimpses of freedom from between the bars a tormenting illusion.

As the opening scene began, Jack drew in a slow, steadying breath through his nose, then tried again.

He caressed his fingers along Vincent’s jaw to earn back his gaze. “If you want me to stop, I will. You just have to tell me.” Jack didn’t want to be a monster, but he needed Vincent. He couldn’t offer his heart, but he could do things by Vincent’s terms. If he had to slow down, he would. If he needed to be gentle with his touches, his kisses, he would. But, god, he needed something back to calm the furious storm inside. He was reaching out, blindly, for solid ground because he was drowning.

Since Vincent didn’t tell him to stop, or do anything but stared at him with large, brown eyes, Jack leaned in to slot their mouths together in a gentle kiss.

“Oh my god,” a girl gasped from the aisle.

Jack broke the kiss but couldn’t bring himself to face the girl. The voice was unfamiliar and Jack clutched the armrest, hoping her outburst had nothing to do with him, and slowly turned around.

Amélie Lacroix smiled, the red straw of her drink stark against her dark lipstick. Her gaze flicked between him and Vincent, brimming with the wicked delight. Aside from being Akande’s on and off again girlfriend, Amélie held a grudge against Satya, and neither fact boded well for Jack.

She sipped her drink before singing out, “Who would have thought it, Jack Morrison is a fag.”

The world dropped out from Jack’s feet. A voice called to him, a hand grabbed at his arm, but Jack heeded none of it. He rose and walked out, running by the time he reached his truck in the parking lot. He left without Vincent. He drove, pretending that with enough distance he could escape the fall out.

His phone rang and rang and rang.

* * *

The next morning, Jack considered not getting out of bed.

The two hours of sleep he managed to seize only added to his weariness. He didn’t want to think, let alone feel anything. If he claimed to be sick, his mother would let him stay home. The idea of curling up in his blankets, maybe even downing some Nyquil or Benadryl to slip back into the blissful nothing of sleep, sorely tempted him.

After deciding his father’s disappointment would be a fate worse than school, Jack crawled out of bed and dressed. His heart sank as he reviewed the angry text messages Angela had left him. Vincent must have told her what happened, probably had called her for a ride home after being ditched at the theater.

Jack’s gaze lingered over her last message.

`**Angie:** Don’t talk to me until you pull your head out of your ass.`

He closed the phone without replying.

Dreading the possible confrontations at school, Jack forestalled his departure from home. He waited until the last minute, causing him and Genji to miss their early morning run and, once parked, Jack beelined toward the school doors, eager to get the day over with. His skin crawled as he walked the hall, hyper aware of the few glances thrown his direction.

It wasn’t bad, maybe—

A single cough, masking the word ‘queer’, sent his heart plunging. It’d been stupid to hope Amélie would keep his secret. Acid clawed up his throat. Jack’s steps faltered as the hallway teetered sideways. It was just one heckle. It was nothing. Jack hiked up his backpack, ducked his head and skirted around his peers.

He arrived at his locker, biting down on the urge to throw up the bit of toast he’d managed that morning. His fingers shook as he pulled out his books, belatedly noticing that Angela was not there to greet him. Rare were the days her smiling face didn’t meet him before classes. Her absence heightened the swirl of queasiness in Jack’s gut. He scanned the faces around him, feeling exposed, and touched the phone in his pocket.

He left it there.

After treating Vincent so poorly, Angela’s irritation was justifiable. He deserved it. All of it.

An unexpected blow came at lunch when Jack found his table almost empty. Over the last few weeks, he’d grown fond of having the rest of the team there, crowding him and engaging him in their conversations.

Jack set his tray down and searched the cafeteria.

Gabriel, Jesse, and Mako sat with the hockey team, which was understandable considering the upcoming games. A displeased Angela sat with her other friends. Satya was nowhere to be seen, but midterms were right around the corner so he imagined she was studying in the library. Jamison was absent, perhaps without Mako's presence he didn’t feel comfortable with the rest of them. Lastly, Lena sat glumly with some of her own classmates and Jack wondered, distantly, if it had anything to do with her transparent crush on Emily.

Even though he rationalized it, he keenly felt their absence.

Sombra and Hana remained, huddled together with Genji, but remained engrossed in their own conversation. No one looked up as Jack sat down. He beat back the sour feelings and prodded at his chicken noodle soup. He managed to stave off the sinking loneliness up until a bowl of soup spilled down his back.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Jack leapt to his feet and held the drenched fabric away from his skin.

Sombra, Hana, and Genji gawked.

“Oops,” said Liam, a would-be senior if not for being held back a grade; a known trouble maker.

“Asshole,” Sombra spat at Liam, who merely grinned and walked away.

Boiling with pent up frustration, Jack glared daggers into Liam’s back. But, as several faces gaped at him and his soupy shirt, the rage abated and Jack retreated to the boys locker room. There he changed into his P.E. shirt and contemplated the wisdom of skipping the rest of the day. An idea he abandoned because the school would call his parents and he needed to keep his two worlds separate. He could endure the crap at school as long as his father never caught wind of his transgression.

Jack sat through his afternoon classes, his mind so far from the work in front of him. The drive home passed in a blur. After chores, Jack crawled into bed, foregoing dinner, and slept fitfully.

The next day was worse.

Jack stood, once again alone, at his locker. As he switched out his books, a rough shove from behind sent him face first into the metal door. Dazed, Jack slid his hand over his busted lip and stared at the smear of bright, red blood. His tongue lapped over the split as he looked down the hall, catching Liam’s leer as he rounded the corner.

Instead of angry, Jack just felt worn.

By the end of the day, Liam and his closest friend, Stevie, had made a sport of it. Jack learned quickly, managing to minimize the damage by catching his locker with a bracing hand or his shoulder instead of his face. Already under the threat of expulsion for fighting, Jack knew better than to retaliate. He glared, but endured with the thought that by not reacting to it, they’d get bored of harrassing him by the end of the week.

That night, as Jack examined his bruised shoulder and split lip in the mirror, he considered dropping out of school all together. A farmer didn’t need a high school diploma. If pressed, he could get his GED by other means. His father was right, it was all a waste of time and energy.

His tormentor, perhaps emboldened by the submissive behavior, grew bolder.

In between second and third period, Jack was cornered at the end of the hall. His books and papers laid scattered across the floor after being knocked from his hands. Jack refused to bend over, or kneel down, to gather them back up. Not while Liam stood there, grinning at him, blocking him from walking away from the situation.

Again Jack glared, his hands curled into tight fists, and refused to play into Liam’s game.

The standoff lasted until the bell rang.

Jack tried catching Gabriel after classes, but was met with an outstretched palm and an irate glare. Gabriel snapped, not giving Jack a chance to speak, “Not now.”

It was the only thing Gabriel said to him all week. Somehow, it hurt worse than his bruised shoulder. It cut deeper than the demeaning way he felt whenever he had to crouch down and pick up his belongings after they’d been knocked from his hands. The two words twisted at him so much more sharply than the homophobic slurs coughed at him in the hallway.

When the weekend finally arrived, Jack threw himself into the work needing done at the farm. He chored, from sunrise to sunset, until he was so tired he passed out on his bed and slept like a rock. By the time Monday rolled around, a hollowness had burrowed itself into Jack. Feeling numb, Jack barely had the energy to drag himself out of bed.

“Are you sick?” Genji asked as they climbed into the truck Monday morning.

In the bathroom mirror Jack had noticed the bags under his eyes and the sunken look to his cheeks. He’d eaten sparsely over the last week, couldn’t sleep enough, and he felt worn to the bone from chores. He was fucking miserable and he just wanted to go back to bed.

“Just tired,” Jack brushed off the question and rubbed at his eyes.

Genji frowned, but pulled out his phone and didn’t pursue the topic. He'd been in his own funk ever since hearing about Angela's newest friend, Jean-Baptiste. Jack sympathized with him, knowing the sharp edges of a broken heart, but he didn't have any spare energy to offer comfort.

They rode in a dull silence, troubled by their own pain.

* * *

“Hey Jack?”

In the locker room, changing for gym class, Jack stood facing the wall. He kept his blank gaze forward so no one would think he was trying to ogle them. He recognized Liam’s voice. The sound of it made his shoulders hunch and his teeth grit. Last week had taught Jack to get in and out of the locker room as quickly as possible, but today he’d been spacing out, too weary to care.

“Do you think my cock is pretty?”

The bench behind Jack creaked. Some of the other boys whooped in encouragement, but Jack didn’t budge. He narrowed his eyes, wondering what stupid jibe he’d hear next.

“Would you want to suck my pretty cock?”

Fed up with the badgering, Jack spun around. Liam stood on the bench, naked, rocking his hips in a crude dance. Jack snorted and regarded Liam’s flaccid cock with an arched brow. “I sure hope you’re a grower and not a show-er ‘cause—”

His back hit the lockers as Liam hopped down and shoved him. “Who said you could look at my dick, queer?”

Jack bared his teeth in a feral grin. It might have been the lack of sleep, or the cracks in his resolve finally tearing him apart, but Jack burst out laughing. “Aw, you changed your mind?”

Stevie, Liam’s friend, joined them.

Jack flashed the same mad grin at him. “Threesome?” He snapped his eyes back to Liam. “Or are we going to have a good old fashioned circle jerk?”

Jack deflected Liam’s punch, but his counter blow was caught by Stevie.

Liam’s second hit caught Jack in the ribs. Jack kicked him away, but didn’t get a chance to do anything more due to Stevie’s fist smashing against his temple. Jack’s head snapped to the side, his teeth clacked together, and his vision swam with black stars.

Stunned, Jack’s sluggish movements failed to prevent Liam and Stevie from seizing his arms and hauling him forward. Terror clutched at Jack’s heart, clearing his daze, and he dug his heels in. His sneakers squeaked and marked the floor as he thrashed against their hold. He didn’t know where they were taking him, but a poignant fear told him that he didn’t want to find out.

His shirt ripped as he fought back and yelled at them to just _leave him alone_. The fight came to a jarring halt when the gym coach appeared. Released, Jack backed away to lean against the lockers and to suck in a series of gasping breaths. He struggled to keep a stoic expression, verging on the cusp of falling to pieces. A tear rolled down his cheek and Jack frantically swiped it away.

“What’s going on here?” Coach asked.

“Nothing,” Liam said, shrugging.

Liam and Stevie walked away while the coach settled a look on Jack. It wasn’t a kind look. The man was one of the teachers Jack had encountered in the hall, arms crossed, nose raised, and silently judging him the way his father had all those years ago. Not an ally.

Jack lifted his chin, defiant, and straightened his torn shirt. “Nothing is going on.”

Later, as he sat in math class, he thought about talking to Amari. Her job obligated her to do something about the bullying. Jack didn’t know how much more he could endure. He just wanted it to stop. Would she look at him like the other teachers did? The ones that had grown up in a different time, a time when a little hazing was seen as a way to toughen up boys, a time when a weakness was something that could be beaten out of a person.

Or, if she did act on his complaints, would she call his parents in to discuss why he was being hazed?

The image of sitting in her office, withering under the hateful look his father would give him, sent Jack rushing out of class. He ran to the bathroom where he emptied his stomach into the first open stall. No, he realized as he brought his shaking hands to his pale face, he’d rather die than have to sit through that meeting a second time.

* * *

“Jack.”

He was back in class; fifth period, biology. The bell had rung and the other students were rushing to get out the door. Jack struggled through the fog of his disjointed thoughts and wearily shifted his attention to the front of the room. Mr. Winston beckoned, his large, bushy brows creased with concern.

Jack dragged his feet, waiting until everyone else was out of the room before approaching his teacher.

“Is something going on?” Mr. Winston asked.

The question, so simple, loosened the cap on the bottle where Jack continued to shove all his emotions. It threatened to bubble up and over; to reduce him to a sopping mess on the cheap, linoleum floor. He wanted, so much, for someone to ask him what was going on. He wanted someone to care enough to notice his world was falling apart.

Blinking back the moisture springing to his eyes, Jack drew in a deep breath and reminded himself that despite Mr. Winston’s kind demeanor, he could secretly be like all the other teachers. Whatever Jack said could be taken back to the teacher’s lounge or, worse, to his parents.

Jack shrugged, his shoulders barely moving. “No, nothing. Why?”

“Well,” Mr. Winston said while shuffling some papers on his desk. “You haven’t been doing your work and your last test score was, well, you didn’t even finish half the test. Midterms are coming up and it counts for a good portion of your grade and I’m concerned. You’ve always been a good student.”

Of course he had. He had to be Mr. Perfect for all the world. The obliging child for his mother, the dutiful son for his father, the perfect student for his teachers. He wasn’t allowed to have a bad day, to be a disappointment. They wanted him to smile, to put forth the act he’d molded over the years. It was smothering him. It was snuffing out the last bits of himself. He didn’t want to be their golden boy anymore.

“I’ll ask again,” Mr. Winston said with a gentle tone. “Is anything going on? Something that is affecting your work? I’ve spoken to some of your other teachers and—”

“I’m just not feeling well.” Jack glared at the corner of Mr. Winston’s desk. He could imagine what some of the other teachers had to say about him. Where was this conversation even leading? An eventual meeting with his parents to discuss how his sexuality was disrupting the learning environment for other students?

Jack’s weight shifted and he glanced toward the door. “Can I go?”

Mr. Winston sighed, obviously disappointed. He gazed at Jack for a while longer before asking, “Can you promise me you’ll try harder?”

“Yeah,” Jack lied.

* * *

As another week came to an end, Jack reached out. Angela was still giving him the cold shoulder, Vincent wasn’t an option, and Jack didn’t feel comfortable opening up to anyone else. He waited outside the school doors, ten pounds lighter and desperate to latch on to something steady and real, to stop himself from sinking further into the tar pit of despair.

“Gabe,” Jack’s voice croaked with disuse.

“I can’t,” Gabriel snarled, sparing him no more than a parting glance as he descended the concrete stairs. “I just fucking can’t.”

With the loss of their short-lived friendship, Jack felt the last pillar of his strength shatter. The pain erupted and gave way to a cloying numbness. It took him a long moment to register Jesse in front of him. Jesse had been following after Gabriel, but stopped after the first downward step. His brown eyes were roaming over the bruises dotting Jack’s face.

“Jesse!” Gabriel called from the curb, already striking out across the parking lot. “Hurry the fuck up.”

Obediently, Jesse sank down another step while frowning at Jack. “We probably won’t make practice this weekend. We’ve got an away game tonight, so…”

Whatever.

What did any of it matter anymore?

The finality of it came that evening, as Jack walked with his mother through the grocery store, and someone shouted “Fag!” from down the aisle. His mother, oblivious, had glanced at the boy who had laughed and ran off.

It wasn’t going away. The hazing wasn’t confined to the school. It was seeping over the rest of his life and eventually it would follow him, leering, all the way back to the farm. It would bang on the windows and rattle the door knobs, cackling and hooting with manic delight.

And…

Jack couldn’t deal with it anymore.

* * *

As the sun crested late over the frost crusted fields on Saturday morning, Jack sat in his room, waiting for the bands of silver and blue to warm on the horizon. His boots were laced, his bed made, and his room tidied. He’d been awake for hours. His head ached from a restless night of silent tears, but he felt better than he had in the last two weeks. A numbness blanketed his thoughts. It’d be over soon. No more pain. No more suffering. Peace was within reach.

Jack pushed his thumb against the safety of his Ruger .22, listening to the soft click. He glanced at the folded paper sitting on top of his dresser and heart clenched with doubt. He turned the safety back on and tucked the pistol into his thigh holster. The last two weeks had neatly capped off the last nine years of a deepening depression. It was too much; the burden on his shoulders, the hooks in his heart, the sickness in his soul.

Shouldering his pack, Jack headed out.

“Honey?” His mother sat in the kitchen, nursing a cup of coffee. She looked him over before gazing toward the window. “You’re going out?”

His fingers brushed reassuringly over the handle of his pistol. “Yeah.”

“It’s cold outside.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Do you want breakfast?”

“No.” He didn’t want to change his mind.

“What about your chores?”

Anger slithered through his chest and he narrowed a look on the far wall. “I’ll do them later.”

Her smile made his heart ache and his resolve waver. She needed him, but Jack had nothing left to give. Again her gaze went toward the kitchen window. Curls of frost clung to the glass, but had begun weeping under the rising sun. Her smile faded. “Are you sure? It’s really cold out. I could make french toast.”

His boots scuffed against the floor as he walked over to the table. He hugged her shoulders and kissed her temple; held her for a long moment before stepping back. “I’ll be fine. Love you.”

“Love you too.” She patted his arm. “Be back for lunch?”

“Sure,” he lied again while slipping out the door.

Soldier barked from his kennel door, jumping with excitement. Mist curled away from his muzzle. He pawed at the door as Jack approached. Jack reached through the gap and scratched at his ears. “Not today, bud.” His fingers lingered, curling through Soldier’s thick fur. With one final pat, Jack went to his truck.

Soldier whined, nosed at the latch, but could do little more than bark as Jack drove toward the back fields.  


:::  
_I've become so numb, I can't feel you there_  
_Become so tired, so much more aware  
By becoming this, all I want to do  
Is be more like me and be less like you_  
:::


	12. Comatose - Sød Ven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A mid-week update as a special  
> thanks to everyone  
> <3

  


:::  
_Brittle bones  
Fragile heart  
Both were meant to fall apart_  
:::

“Where the fuck is Jack?” Gabriel growled.

Between struggling to keep his grades up for midterms, holding double hockey practices, and picking up extra shifts at work, Gabriel’s patience had thinned to near non-existent. Dealing with Akande’s bullshit was just icing on the cake. Moreover, Gabriel kept catching glimpses of his dad’s suburban lurking near his mom’s house. He didn’t need one more thing to stress over, yet there he stood, glaring daggers at the Spartan team sitting idly in the bleachers.

Over the last two weeks, Gabriel had taken his frustration out on the ice. Hockey was his crutch, his outlet to vent where other sports had failed to alleviate the coil of fury and resentment that often bloomed thorny and tight in his chest. Wrestling left him crazed, off-kilter from cutting weight. He was too aggressive for basketball and football was too slow paced. Other sports just bored him. But hockey encouraged him to be aggressive, quick, and clever. It calmed the storm, at least until Akande started fucking it up.

During their last game, Akande had started a mutiny, dividing the team and almost throwing the game. Coach had been livid, threatening to pull Gabriel from captain unless he got the rest of the team under control. They had still won, despite Gabriel losing his cool and being sent to the box twice. But that was the beauty of hockey. They could sit him in the box for a minute or two, let him stew over his mistake like a child being sent to a corner, but once the seconds ticked down, he was back out on the ice.

Focused on hockey, because his scholarship was riding on it, Gabriel had thrown the spartan team on the back burner. He didn’t have the patience, or the time, to manage both teams and the other shit going on in his life. Jack could handle it. Or so he thought. It was only a handful of practices.

But, after last night's game, guilt had gnawed at Gabriel. Instead of going out with the team to a celebratory dinner, he’d sat in the lobby of the motel, arguing with himself, and had eventually called his mom to come pick up him, Jesse, and Mako, so they could make practice with the Spartan team the following morning.

With their hockey gear stuffed wherever they could fit it in the small Mazda, they rode across two counties. His mother had smiled, said it wasn’t a problem, but Gabriel knew she’d called off work to fetch them. Jesse and Mako had been annoyed and the ride home had elapsed in a tense silence, all for the sake of making morning practice.

Only to find Jack hadn’t bothered to show up.

The rest of the team, sans Jack and Genji, sat in the bleachers, staring at their phones. Gabriel stood in front of them, hands on his hips, glowering and about to blow a gasket because no one had even acknowledged his question. His scowl deepened. “Did his truck break down?”

A collective shrug was their only response.

“Did anyone try calling him?” He pulled out his phone and brought up Jack’s number while muttering how useless they all were. He put the phone to his ear and listened to it ring, again and again, until it went to voicemail. He tempered back his anger while waiting for the beep. “Yeah, Jack, where the fuck are you and why are you not at practice?”

He hung up, called again, but it went straight to voicemail. Annoyed, Gabriel tried a third time with the same results. It could have been any number of things, but usually it meant his calls were being ignored or Jack had shut off his phone. Neither scenario improved Gabriel’s mood. He stalked over to Angela. “Where’s Jack?”

“I don’t know,” she snapped and continued to scroll through her phone.

Gabriel studied her for a moment longer as the analytical engine in his mind sputtered to life and began running diagnostics. Had the golden haired couple finally broken up? When had that happened? He reeled back time in an attempt to pinpoint the exact moment. Jack had tried to grab him in the hallway. Pale with dark rings under his eyes, Jack had looked worn. Sad, even. Gabriel had brushed him off, not having time to deal with anyone’s problems but his own, and since Jack didn’t pursue it, Gabriel hadn’t spared it a second thought. Still, even if Jack was suffering from heart-break, skipping practice didn’t seem like him. He was too duty-bound, too steadfast. He would have sent a text with some lame excuse instead of going radio silent.

“Maybe he’s somewhere without service?” Gabriel asked himself, his fingers curling around his phone as he grasped for an explanation.

Satya stood and stepped down from the bleachers. “If we’re not going to practice, I’m leaving.”

Gabriel whirled on her. “Start laps, _now_.”

She glared, but moved, along with the others, to jog around the open gym. Gabriel snagged Jesse’s arm and pulled him aside. “Do the Morrisons have a landline?”

“No one has landlines, Gabe.”

Gabriel’s fingers tightened on Jesse’s elbow. “Do you have his parents’ numbers?”

“Nope.”

Gabriel let go, but Jesse did little but lean away. He teetered forward, then rocked backwards and faced Gabriel with a pained grimace. With hands set on his hips, he looked at a point somewhere over Gabriel’s shoulder. “I dunno, Gabe. Maybe Jack took the day off, y’know?”

“Jack doesn’t take days off.”

In all the years Gabriel had known Jack, he’d never known him to procrastinate, or skip out, on anything. The guy was wound up tighter than a corkscrew and Gabriel doubted Jack knew how to just kick back and relax. Not even a few drinks and a couple hits of weed had completely smoothed the ever present tension in Jack’s shoulders.

Gabriel started in on a text to Jack, but stopped half way through upon noticing Jesse’s lingering presence. With the last of his patience waning dangerously thin, Gabriel lowered his phone and met Jesse’s troubled look. “What?”

Jesse’s weight shifted. “It’s been a fuckin’ shit fest these last two weeks, yeah?”

“Get to the point.”

“Well, I’ve come to realize that Jack hasn’t had the best couple of weeks either.”

Given Angela’s attitude, Gabriel had surmised as much. His memory raked up the images of the fading bruises he’d glimpsed on Jack’s face. The healing line of a split lip. The broken look. Gabriel’s anger began to drain and his back stiffened. He hadn't thought much of the marks, not when most of the hockey team wore similar injuries after a lively match. He'd dismissed it. Yet, having grown up watching his mother hide her bruises, either with clothing or makeup — hell, he’d covered enough of his own from questioning eyes to know the uglier side of the truth.

Why hadn’t he stopped to ask Jack about the marks? Had someone — the thought barely got out of the gate before a ringing started in Gabriel’s ears. His fingers flexed into a fist several times. It didn't click.

Who would hurt Jack?

Why hadn’t he stopped to hear Jack out?

Jesse tugged anxiously at his lower lip. “And I’ve been hearin’ shit, y’know?”

“No,” Gabriel growled. “I don’t know.”

“Ah hell, you really haven’t heard?”

“When the fuck have I ever cared about gossip?”

“It’s jus…” Jesse scuffed his sneaker against the gym floor. “He’s been gettin’ hazed.”

It didn’t make sense. Jack wasn’t a guy that let himself get pushed around. Gabriel’s eyes flicked back and forth as he dissected the information and analyzed it from every angle. The threat of expulsion for fighting would definitely prevent Jack from retaliating, but it still didn’t sound right. Jack was a bit reserved, but well liked. Aside from the hockey team (that stupidly took it as an insult that Jack wouldn't try out), no one had a reason to pick a fight with him. Akande might have orchestrated it to pull Gabriel’s attention away from the hockey team. It didn’t quite fit. Akande would have said something, he would have planted the pestering seed of doubt in Gabriel’s mind well before the game.

The wheels of thought spun, but couldn’t gain any traction.

Gabriel peered at Jesse. “Why’s he getting hazed?”

Jesse sighed, “Because he’s gay?”

The last of Gabriel’s anger popped like a balloon and he gawked at Jesse. He slowly blinked, twice, and glanced toward Angela, Jack’s long time girlfriend, before peering back at Jesse. “You know that’s bullshit, right?”

“Geez Gabe—”

“It’s _gossip_ , Jesse.”

“You know I like both, right?” Jesse snarled.

Again Gabriel lost his train of thought, caught off guard by Jesse’s sharp tone.

Jesse scratched irritably at the bristle on his chin before adding, “That I’m bisexual.”

“I know what you meant.” Gabriel waved it aside. “Not like I’m surprised, you flirt with anything with a pulse.”

“My point is,” Jesse said firmly. “Would you have known if I hadn’t told you just now?”

Truth be told, Gabriel didn’t care. He’d grown up in an open minded family — excluding his father. Sexuality had never been a point of contention. It wasn’t something he really thought about unless people threw it in his face. He considered himself a little bi-curious, but had never really acted on it. A few kisses here and there, but nothing monumental.

He glanced over Jesse. “I guess not.”

“So I’m sayin’ — _jus’ sayin’_ — that the guy he brought along on Halloween?”

“Vincent,” Gabriel supplied, his lip curling.

“Yeah, well, _he’s_ gay and _maybe_ he was Jack’s boyfriend.”

Gabriel shook his head, refusing the idea. He’d seen the two at the mall. Sure, Vincent might have had a thing for Jack, but Jack’s body language had been expressing the opposite. And Jack hadn’t looked pleased to be stuck with Vincent during their Halloween excursion. Jesse was way off the mark.

“A guy can be friends with a gay guy without being gay,” Gabriel stated with a faint, annoyed growl.

Jesse’s hands shot up in exasperation. “Well that’s how rumors start, alright? And that’s what’s goin’ around right now.”

As Jesse walked off, Gabriel mulled over the information. None of it was clicking into place. There were too many missing pieces. The image of Jack’s bruised face persisted. Frowning, Gabriel erased the angry text he’d been composing and replaced it with three words.

`**Gabe:** Please call me.`

He tossed his phone on his discarded jacket and joined the others in jogging laps. His mind raced on ahead of his feet, pulling and twisting the bits of information around like puzzle pieces. He was missing something. A vital clue. If Jack was gay — _if_ — then it only made sense why Angela was peeved, it would have been a nasty fall out of a long term relationship. Then, if word got out around school about Jack being gay, it would no doubt stir up the usual close minded bigots. A bit of hazing. But Jack wouldn’t let himself be pushed around.

Would he?

Gabriel should have asked about the bruises.

Why wasn’t Jack at practice?

Jack _always_ pushed back.

Where was Jack?

A chill passed through Gabriel and he beelined for his phone. No missed calls. No new messages. A bad feeling slithered into his gut and he hastily pulled on his jacket and grabbed his car keys. He needed answers, otherwise he was going to drive himself crazy spinning up far-fetched scenarios.

“Where are you going?” Sombra asked.

“To find Jack.”

The twenty minutes drive out to the Morrison farm felt like an hour. Gabriel watched the sides of the road, searching for any sign of Jack’s truck with the faint hope it had broken down somewhere along the way. Nothing but field grass and fence lines. Cell service remained full bars the whole drive, crossing off yet another excuse.

Maybe Jack forgot about practice? Maybe his phone died?

When Gabriel pulled into the drive of the Morrisons’ house and noted Jack’s truck missing, the scaly feeling in his gut writhed.

Maybe, his mind grasped on to the next possibility as the others withered and died, maybe Jack’s truck was in the shop. Maybe he had a family emergency. Maybe he got stuck out in the fields. Maybe his father was being dick and was making him do chores.

 _He would have told us._ The analytical side of him neatly snipped away at the hopeful spins of yarn.

Gabriel climbed out of the car and was met with a burst of frantic barking. Soldier leapt at the chain link walls of his kennel, each bark transforming into a high pitched yelp until he was flat out whining and digging at the ground near the door. Gabriel eyed the crazed dog while knocking on the front door.

Mrs. Morrison opened the door and smiled. “Hi, Gabriel. Are you looking for Johnny?”

“Yeah, where is he?”

She gestured to the road leading into the fields. “He went out this morning.”

Gabriel scanned the horizon, but saw nothing to ease the twisting in his stomach. Jack was there, but not answering his phone. Maybe he forgot it at the house? Maybe. It didn’t explain why he had skipped out on practice. Gabriel fiddled with his car keys as he turned his gaze back to Mrs. Morrison. “Is he doing chores?”

“No, I think he went shooting.”

His heart dropped and for a second his lungs ceased working. Gabriel cleared his throat before calmly asking, “Did Genji go with him?”

“Genji’s in his room. Did you need to talk to him?”

“No.”

Soldier stuck his muzzle through the gap between the fence and door, begging to be let out. Gabriel had only spent a week at the farm, but he’d noticed that if Jack went anywhere on the farm, Soldier went with him. The puzzle pieces were shifting, creating an ugly image in Gabriel’s head. He swallowed down the sick fluttering in his chest.

“Ja—Johnny was supposed to meet up with me,” Gabriel half-lied. “I think he forgot and his phone might be dead. Do you mind if I go find him?”

“Not at all.” She turned to leave, but sighed and gestured toward Soldier. “Would you mind taking him with you? Johnny forgot him and he’s been driving me up the walls with all that barking.”

The wheels of thought spinning, Gabriel nodded politely before walking toward the kennel.

 _Maybe_ , his hopeful side hesitantly extended a frail possibility, _Jack needed to blow off some steam._

 _Yeah_ , his realistic side sneered, _Jack needed to blow off something alright._

Gabriel had never pegged Jack as the kind of guy that would snap when under pressure. But when he really began to look at it, Jack seemed exactly the type. Bottled up. Cut off. Inclined to let things wind tighter and tighter until —

_Pop goes the weasel._

As soon as the metal latch of the kennel door lifted, Soldier barreled out, knocking Gabriel into the dirt. Soldier ran, full tilt, toward the back fields. Gabriel stared after him. People talked about animals having a sixth sense, how animals could sense danger before it happened. He’d seen the stories on tv. Beloved pets saving small children from drowning in pools, protecting their family from intruders. Hell, dogs were used as therapy animals; their heightened senses able to detect the subtle shift in mood in a person.

It felt silly to think Soldier sensed something amiss, that Soldier felt the same nagging worry Gabriel did. Soldier was just a dog. He was conditioned to ride along whenever Jack went somewhere on the farm. It was routine. Normal. It didn’t mean anything.

Feeling nauseous, Gabriel shakily climbed back into his car and ease onto the dirt road. The deep ruts, made worse by the recent frost, jostled his small car side to side and forced him to drive slow. His fingers repeatedly flexed around the steering wheel. The crawling pace gave his mind ample time to make mountains out of molehills.

Pop goes the weasel.

_Jack is stronger than that._

The road came to a T-intersection and Gabriel pressed down on the brake, internally screaming because he didn’t know how to get to Jack’s shooting range. It was almost noon. Jack had been out there all morning. It was too late. Too fucking late. Gabriel clamped a hand over his mouth while his heart slammed against his ribs. His eyes flicked from one road to the other, completely lost. He’d only been out there once and hadn’t paid attention to the drive. It had been one field after another. It all looked the same.

A tremor ran down Gabriel’s arms and his vision blurred with unshed tears. He felt powerless and hated it. His fist smashed against the steering wheel. “Fuck!”

Why hadn’t he taken the few precious seconds to stop and ask Jack about the bruises?

What the fuck was going on?

Why didn’t Jack _say_ anything?

Growling, Gabriel swept away the wet trail sneaking down his cheek. Ten fucking seconds, that was all the time he had to take out of his life to stop and ask Jack what was going on. Instead he’d been wrapped up in his own personal drama, too on edge to spare one fucking moment. God, what would he even do if he found Jack dead? Yell at a corpse? Apologize to it? Beg for forgiveness?

He throttled the steering wheel. It wasn’t his fault!

But he could have done something. He could have asked—

 _Jack’s not dead._ The logical explanation to discredit the unwelcome conclusions just had yet to reveal itself. Jack wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t.

Would he?

Movement caught Gabriel’s attention; to his left, Soldier padded down the road.

Trusting the dog knew the way, Gabriel followed him. The path took him along a stretch of barbed wire fence and Gabriel rubbed at the healed scratch along his forearm. Jack had tended to the cut, ages ago, and Gabriel had never thanked him. _Too fucking late now._

Jack had cleaned away the blood without saying a word, had smiled in an absent sort of way while applying a bandage, and Gabriel hadn’t thought to thank him. He should have thanked him. The memory of Jack’s serene, but thoughtful expression as he tended the wound was replaced by the bruised, hollowed look he’d worn outside the school doors.

Why hadn’t he stopped?

The land around the car began to rise and fall the further Gabriel drove. Another side road went off to his right, but Soldier continued on along the fence line. Gabriel's hands were shaking by the time he crested the last hill and spotted the familiar grove of aspens, the tall cottonwoods, and the glitter of water.

And, more eye catching than the rest, Jack’s truck.

Gabriel sped forward, the car rocking violently as the small tires slipped into the old, mud-caked ruts. Hope spurred his heart forward with stumbling beats.

 _Please_ , he begged while blood-soaked images flashed through his thoughts.

Gabriel slammed down on the brake and his car lurched like a dog being yanked back by a leash. The tires slid through the grass and dirt, skidding to a halt just short of the truck's bumper. Gabriel jammed the gear shift into park, sprang out the door, and scrambled around the side of the truck.

_Please, God, don’t let him be—_

His eyes lighted on Jack, sitting against the hubcap of the front wheel, hunched over his bent legs with his arms wrapped tightly around his knees. Not lying in the dirt. Not in a puddle of blood. Still, Gabriel’s steps were weighted with hesitance as he crept closer, and his voice broke over the single word, “Jack?”

Jack tensed and his head snapped up; his blue eyes, rimmed by so much red, were a sight next to heaven.

Relief washed over Gabriel and he collapsed on Jack, nearly knocking him to the ground if not for the brace of the truck behind him. Gabriel’s knees gave out and he slumped next to Jack and hauled him into a hug, refusing to let go.

“You fuck,” Gabriel cursed, his voice quavering while his arms tightened. “You stupid fuck.”

Gabriel pressed his face into Jack’s mess of blonde hair and held him as close as possible to never risk losing the idiot ever again. Gabriel sniffed back his emotions, the relieved tears welling in his eyes and the angry words burning in his throat.

Something dug into the underside of Gabriel’s thigh and when he finally let go of Jack long enough to push it away, his fingers met with the cold touch of metal. His eyes widened and he gingerly picked up the pistol. He thumbed at the safety like he’d been taught. It was off. Gabriel’s heart skipped a beat. He eyed the gun, wanting to scream with fury and chuck it away. He wanted to yell at Jack until his throat went raw because, for once in his life, Gabriel had wanted to be wrong.

Pushing the safety back on, Gabriel set the pistol out of Jack’s reach. He quickly retracted his hand from the gun as if stung by it and carded his fingers into Jack’s hair, holding him close enough that his pounding heart could be heard. Through the heat of anger and bone shaking fear, Gabriel managed to trip over a series of words between the two warring emotions. “What’s going on, Jack?”

Jack stirred, showing the first signs of life since lifting his head. His arms tentatively wound around Gabriel’s torso and with each passing second, the hold tightened. Jack buried his face into Gabriel’s chest, fiercely squeezed him, and choked on the words. Gabriel smoothed a hand along Jack’s trembling shoulders as the walls crumbled. Jack shook as he fought not to cry, but sobbed all that much harder because of it.

“I’ve got you,” Gabriel whispered, his lips pressing against Jack’s hair, the strands tickling his nose. A talk could wait until later. At the moment Jack needed the comfort. He needed the arm around his shoulders and the fingers combing through his hair.

The sobs lessened, replaced by occasional sniffs, and were interrupted completely by a jealous Soldier wedging between them. Jack sputtered as Soldier licked away the last of the tears. Gabriel eased back, shivering at the sudden loss of body heat. He wrapped his arms around himself while Soldier crawled into Jack’s lap.

Jack rested his forehead against Soldier’s and curled his fingers through his brown-black fur. His blue eyes turned toward Gabriel and, upon seeing the shivers, he pulled a sweatshirt from his nearby pack and offered it.

A flash of annoyance shot through Gabriel. It irked him how Jack could be utterly selfish and selfless at the same time. Jack’s eyes were bloodshot. He’d been sitting out there all morning, at the end of his rope, yet he still turned around and offered Gabriel a small piece of comfort.

Gabriel wanted to smack him.

Instead he gently nudged the sweater away. “You’re going to run out of hoodies if you keep offering them to me.” He still had the blue one, the one he'd packed with the rest of his clothes with intentions of mending the sleeve he’d ripped. He’d done that, but it still hung in his closet at home, waiting for the right moment to be returned.

“So,” Gabriel hesitated to ask, “you want to talk about it?”

‘It’ needed no elaboration. Certainly not when Jack immediately retreated inward and turned his gaze toward the empty fields. His fingers slid through Soldier’s fur and his lips twisted downward in a thin, ugly frown.

Gabriel pressed his shoulder to Jack’s, seeking to snag those distant blue eyes. “You scared me.”

Growing up under the hand of an abusive father, Gabriel loathed the feeling of being afraid. Feeling vulnerable, small, and powerless. It was something he never wanted to experience again. He responded to the stir of unease with anger. A fault, he knew. A product of his upbringing, _he knew_. Try as he might to temper it, it didn’t always work.

“And what would I tell my mom?” Gabriel teased, jostling Jack with a playful nudge. It earned him the eye contact he wanted; bright and curious instead of distant and veiled in sorrow. “She’d be devastated if I lost the only boyfriend I ever brought home.”

Laughter bubbled out of Jack, followed immediately by a brilliant blush which he promptly covered with his hands. Gabriel grinned, counting it as a win, at least until the laughter morphed into a stuttering sob. Gabriel’s heart immediately sank. He curled an arm back around Jack’s shoulders and pulled him into his chest. “I’m sorry. I was just trying to make you laugh.”

Jack snorted and lifted his head. His eyes were full of tears, his cheeks were wet, but he was smiling. He cupped Gabriel’s cheek with one hand and Gabriel’s mind blanked. He stared into Jack’s gorgeous blue eyes as lighting forked down his spine. Butterflies swarmed his stomach. He held his breath, seized by the idea that Jack was going to kiss him. They were close enough for it. If Gabriel leaned forward, just a little, he could seal the deal himself. But he froze, just like he had in the graveyard, and waited for Jack to make the next move.

Jack patted his cheek. “ _Muy cómico_.”

A lopsided smile snuck through Gabriel’s stunned expression as he realized, with a start, that he never wanted to imagine his life without Jack’s doofy smile or his terrible humor. The buzzing in his head subsided as Jack shifted his attention back to Soldier. The pinging of his ajar door registered. The chilly wind swept over his flushed skin.

Gabriel cleared his throat. “It’s cold. I’m hungry. Let’s head back?”

For a long moment Jack stared out across the field. His eyes were distant, forlorn, and Gabriel's chest ached. He itched to draw Jack back into his arms, run his fingers through his hair, and just hold on to him until the pain passed.

“Okay,” Jack croaked, barely above a whisper, and gently pushed Soldier out of his lap.

As Jack reached for the pistol, Gabriel slapped a hand over it. Jack immediately shrank back. It took a moment for Gabriel’s heart to settle. For his own peace of mind, he ejected the clip before handing the pistol over.

Jack gave him a flat look before cocking back the pistol's slide to eject the chambered bullet. He picked it out of the dirt and handed it over. _That would have been the one_ , Gabriel thought as he accepted it. It rolled across his palm, so light and plain. Insignificant if not for the purpose it once held while in line with the firing pin.

Pop goes the weasel.

Jack rose first. He brushed the dirt and grass from his legs before loading Soldier into the truck. He said nothing and kept his eyes low. Gabriel lingered a step behind, his throat tight with unspoken words. He saw Jack into the truck before climbing into his car and finally shutting the door. His fist closed around the bullet and the metal bit into his palm.

He didn’t understand it. As shitty as his own life could get, he never once thought about looking down the barrel of a gun. A session in the gym, or on the ice, usually cooled him down. When things got bad, he went out with friends and partook in alcohol or drugs to take off the edge, but he never considered ending his own life. In fact, he was ecstatic to be so close to leaving the whole damn town behind.

But _Jack_ …

What the hell was he going to do about Jack?

By the time they pulled up to the house, Gabriel still didn’t have an answer. A weighted silence persisted. Jack shouldered his pack and, with Soldier at his heels, headed inside. Gabriel trailed along in his wake, concerned and unable to hide it.

“Johnny?”

Jack froze and Gabriel nearly crashed into him. Soldier padded on, happy to be indoors. From the kitchen, Mrs. Morrison gazed blankly at them, as if she had forgotten what she wanted to say. Dazed in a way she hadn’t been earlier when Gabriel had spoken to her. Then the clog cleared, the wheels turned, and she smiled as if in a haze. “Did you do your chores?”

She had no clue. Gabriel looked between the two, again feeling the bullet sharp against his palm. Jack looked like shit; pale, dark rings under his blood shot eyes. It boggled Gabriel that Mrs. Morrison didn’t see it. His own mother would have been all over him, forcing him to sit down on the couch while asking him what was wrong.

Gently, as to not startle Jack, Gabriel laid a hand against the nape of his neck. “He can’t today. He promised to help me with something and we’re already late.”

“Oh.” Mrs. Morrison’s expression crumbled. “But your father—”

“Sorry,” Gabriel cut in and forced Jack into motion toward the bedroom hall. “We really have to get going.”

Once in Jack’s bedroom, Gabriel closed the door and leaned against it. Even though he had found Jack, herded him back home, they were not out of the woods yet. In fact, Gabriel had the horrible feeling he had just brought Jack back to the dark heart of the forest where all the monsters lurked.

Jack sat at his desk and dismantled the pistol, setting the individual pieces on a stained rag pulled from a drawer. His expression remained as stony as he started cleaning the parts.

Gabriel watched him go through the motions, still at a loss of what to do. Last year, Jesse had a similar breakdown. He had disappeared from school and, after a few days, Gabriel had hunted him down. He’d found him in the care of Elizabeth Caledonia, a rich girl with too much freedom and a whole pack of hapless fools at her beck and call.

After pulling Jesse out of the bad situation, he’d gotten Jesse a part time job washing dishes at the restaurant, made him join the hockey team, and extended an open invitation for him to come over for dinner anytime. Gabriel kept Jesse close, and when he got too out of hand, a quick verbal smack usually steered Jesse straight. Jesse just needed a parental figure to push him in the right direction.

But _Jack_ — Jack was different. From what Gabriel had gleaned, Jack shut everything out. Ignored it and carried on. Gabriel was willing to guess it had been going on for a while. He’d caught a glimpse of Jack’s pain in the graveyard, when he’d asked how Ben had died and, for a heartbeat, Jack had stared at him, looking so utterly broken.

Gabriel slowly walked up to the desk and set the pistol clip next to its counterparts. The single bullet he rolled between his fingers before placing it directly in front of Jack. It was a reminder. Gabriel might not press for answers just yet, but he was not about to write off the whole incident either.

“I was serious about being hungry,” Gabriel said while resting his hip against the edge of the desk. “Let’s go to lunch.”

Jack blankly stared at the single bullet. “I can’t.”

“You can and you will.”

“I have to — I need to —”

“Fuck the chores, Jack.” One thing was for certain, Gabriel decided, he wasn’t going to leave Jack there to ground himself down to nothing. “What you _need_ is to get out of here.”

Jack’s jaw clenched and he began reassembling the pistol with sharp motions. He took the bullet, pressed it back into the clip, then firmly slid the magazine into the well. He pulled the slide back with a dull click, chambering a bullet, and Gabriel’s heart scrambled. Adrenaline screamed through veins, paralyzing him for several heart beats.

A second later, Jack ejected the clip, the bullet, and laid everything out on the desk.

Gabriel slowly exhaled before asking, “Why can’t you go?”

“My father—” Jack’s eyes flicked upward, flashing with anger, before he cut himself off and curtly shook his head. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“So what if you don’t do your chores? Your dad gets mad, chews you out, it’s not the end of the world. Fuck him.”

“You don’t—”

“Then explain it to me!” Gabriel grit his teeth against the rush of anger. He shut his eyes, pinched his brow, and said, “Because you’re right. I don’t understand. My own dad is a piece of shit, so I don’t get why you care so much about yours when all I’ve ever seen him do is treat you like you’re some god damn employee.”

Jack shrugged.

Gabriel saw red. His ears rang from the sudden spike in blood pressure and his fingers tightened around his biceps. He was making an honest effort and getting the brush off was beyond infuriating. “Either start talking or I’m going to keep drawing my own conclusions and I like to think I hit things pretty close to the mark.”

Those blue eyes were like chips of ice as they turned onto Gabriel. “Stop making assumptions about me. You don’t know _anything_.”

“Then start talking.”

“So you can pull my words apart?”

A prickle of electric heat clawed up Gabriel’s spine. Despite his efforts to keep things civil, there they were again, stuck in a familiar rut of aggression they used in lieu of healthy conversation. At least it was something. Any expression of emotion was better than the stoic mask.

“You know I care, right?” Gabriel asked, baring his teeth.

Jack snorted.

“I know I can be an asshole, but I’m _here_ , Jack, because I fucking care and there’s something _wrong_ with you.”

“There’s—” Jack’s face fell. A tremble cascaded down his arms and he twisted away. “Yeah, there’s something _wrong_ with me.”

Hearing the self-loathing in the words, Gabriel reached for Jack, only for him to stand up and cross to the far side of the room. _What is it?_ Gabriel wanted to ask. _What is so rotten and festered inside of you so I can rip it out?_

“I didn’t mean it in whatever way you took those words,” Gabriel said, his steps quiet as he approached Jack's turned back. “There’s something eating away inside of you and I want to stop it. It needs to come out, not get bottled up. So if you need to hit me—”

Jack spun around, appalled by the suggestion. “God Gabe, I’m not going to _hit_ you—”

“Good,” Gabriel said while pulling Jack into a hug. Jack made a noise of protest, but Gabriel didn’t let go. He didn’t want to give Jack the space to build up the walls, to refuse the help being offered. Jack pushed at his chest, but Gabriel only responded by squeezing tighter. “Give up, this is happening.”

With a heavy sigh, Jack did. The tension melted from his shoulders and his forehead fell against Gabriel’s collar bone. Jack didn’t return the hug, but he did lean into it.

“Let’s try this again,” Gabriel said while firmly rubbing a hand up and down Jack’s back. “I’m not here to hurt you. I know something is wrong and you need to talk about it to someone or — or — “ Gabriel’s tongue stumbled over the words. _Or I’ll be attending a funeral._

“It’s hard to talk about,” Jack said from the sanctuary of Gabriel’s shoulder.

“Anything real is.”

His fingers found the soft strands of Jack’s hair. Gabriel alternated between dragging his nails along Jack’s scalp to massaging the back of his neck. With each pass, Jack became more pliant until, with a faint tilt of weight, they were swaying side to side.

“Sometimes,” Gabriel whispered, his cheek resting against the top of Jack’s bowed head. “You just need to say things out loud, instead of letting them circle in your head, because when you actually hear it, you realize how stupid it is.” He smirked and exaggerated their swaying. “Kinda like how you told me you like how I dance. I bet you—”

“Oh god, don’t remind me.” Jack pressed his face further into Gabriel’s shoulder.

Pleased at the change in mood, Gabriel chuckled.

“I like this,” Jack said, quiet as a mouse.

Gabriel tightened his hug. “You seem like you don't get many hugs, which is weird considering how doting your mother is.”

“She’s high.”

The absent sway of their slow dance halted as Gabriel played the words over in his head. “She’s — what?”

Jack went quiet. Gabriel continued to curl his fingers through Jack’s hair while the cogs in his mind rapidly spun away, cracking through the new information. He always felt there had been something _off_ about Mrs. Morrison, but he hadn’t put too much thought toward it.

“She never got over Ben’s death,” Jack finally said. “My dad was hard on her — on us. He blames us and she just takes her pills and escapes to a place where she smiles, she cooks, she cleans, and she’s the perfect mother and wife.”

Two more pieces to the puzzle fell into place. An emotionally unavailable mother. A resentful father. It made sense why Jack kept everything bottled up.

“And you?” Gabriel asked.

Jack didn’t answer.

 _Still dealing with it_ , Gabriel surmised and turned to press his lips to — he caught himself before making contact. He swiftly analyzed the intimacy of the position. Realized how easily he’d taken to the role of comforter. Jack felt good in his arms and Gabriel didn’t want to let him go. Especially not when Jack looked so content there, nestled against his shoulder, eyes closed, and his expression, for once, relaxed.

Gabriel didn’t mind.

He lightly traced a finger along the base of Jack’s neck and watched as goosebumps rose in response. He wet his lips, tempted. It’d be wrong, given the circumstances, but Gabriel couldn’t help but dwell on Jesse’s words that morning. If Jack liked guys, then, well, suddenly the dream that had been haunting Gabriel over the last month held some promise. A silly dream. A hazy mix of killer blue eyes, kissing, and bad Spanish.

His lips hovered over Jack’s neck—

“What’s going on here?”

Gabriel froze and Jack went rigid in his arms. In the door stood Jack’s father, his hand still on the door knob. Gabriel internally winced, acutely aware of how he was bent over Jack’s neck like some vampire.

Jack shot away, shrank in on himself, and Gabriel squared his shoulders in response to unwavering glare John settled on Jack.

“Nothing,” Gabriel said when neither Morrison broke the tension. “It was just—”

“John?” Jack’s father spoke over him.

Bristling, Gabriel stepped between the two, earning John’s narrowed eyes.

“You can leave,” John said to him and tilted his head toward the door in dismissal. “John has chores to do.”

Any other day, Gabriel would have left to avoid escalating the situation. But seeing Jack, pale as a sheet, settled Gabriel’s mind. He wouldn’t leave Jack alone to face the wrath of his father. “Nah,” Gabriel lipped defiantly with a smirk. “ _Jack_ is coming with me.”

“Get out,” John toned more firmly.

“Gladly, but he’s still coming with me.”

Obviously not accustomed to back talk, John did little but stare at him for a couple of seconds. “Do I need to call the cops?”

Gabriel smiled, baring his teeth in challenge. “Ask for Officer Reinhardt, he knows me.”

“Gabe,” Jack softly pleaded.

Loathed to turn away from his opponent, Gabriel kept his eyes on John while speaking over his shoulder to Jack, “Pack a bag.” He didn’t see any other solution, not unless he wanted to risk losing Jack.

“Out,” John snarled and flicked his gaze from Gabriel to Jack. “Both of you.”

The light went out from Jack’s eyes. “W-what?”

Gabriel grit his teeth and inwardly cursed. In his attempt to stamp out one fire he’d only succeeded in spreading it around into a larger one. Jack looked one second away from puking his guts out. Gabriel would fix it. One way or another, he’d find a way to set things right.

He grabbed Jack’s discarded pack and stuffed it with random clothes pulled from the dresser. His eyes lighted on a folded piece of paper set neatly on top of the wood. In a room as tidy as Jack’s, considering Jack’s intentions that morning, the little piece of paper glowed with significance. It felt like a hundred pound weight as Gabriel discreetly slid it into the pack with the clothes.

When he turned around, John had Jack by the upper arm and a finger in his face. His lips moved over words too low to hear but familiar enough in the way teeth flashed over angry, hateful words. Jack was trembling, losing face little by little. Gabriel didn’t think. He threw himself between the two Morrisons and shoved John back.

“Don’t fucking touch him,” Gabriel said, his nails digging into his palms.

Hands pressed against Gabriel’s chest, and when he looked down, he found Jack there, holding him back. Seeing Jack so distraught tugged at Gabriel’s heartstrings and cooled his rage. He picked up the pack he’d dropped, grabbed Jack by the hand, and pulled him out of the room. Jack didn’t fight him as they went down the hall and out the front door.

The pounding in Gabriel’s ears didn’t subside until they were halfway to town. His fingers loosened from around the steering wheel and he slowly exhaled. He’d been a second away from punching John Morrison, which likely would have landed him in jail. Gabriel wasn’t a minor anymore. Officer Wilhelm wouldn’t be able to shield him from the consequences any longer. It was one thing to work through a family matter, but quite another if Gabriel went around fighting with strangers.

A side-long glance showed Jack curled against the door, staring blankly at the glove box.

Gabriel reached for him but paused, then settled his hand against the gear shift instead. “Hey buddy,” he said, unable to hold a smile. “Tough day? Wanna go get some ice cream?”

Jack’s lips twitched into an almost smile. He softly snorted, then covered his eyes with one hand as a tear trailed down his cheek. It wasn’t a great reaction, but Gabriel figured it was better than an empty stare. He chewed over his lip before he gave in to the urge to reach over, lightly nudging Jack’s arm with his knuckles. “Do you want me to take you to Angela’s?”

“No.”

His touch lingered, drawing back and forth along Jack’s forearm. “Vincent’s?”

“No,” Jack said, firmly.

 _Good_ , Gabriel thought and set both hands on the wheel. He didn’t trust anyone else with the situation. Angela, either Jack’s long time girlfriend or closest friend, had failed to notice Jack’s distress. Vincent, if he was Jack’s boyfriend, utterly sucked and not in a good way. Gabriel just needed to cross them off as possibilities before he revealed his intentions.

“Guess that leaves me, unless you’ve got some other friends or family I can take you to?”

At least for a couple days; until he was sure Jack’s head was on straight.

Jack shifted and spared Gabriel a fleeting glance. “Will your mom mind?”

“Are you kidding?” Gabriel smirked at him. “You were there when you met her, right? She adores you.”

“Because I have puppy eyes?”

It was a sad attempt at a joke, ruined by the break in Jack’s voice, but Gabriel smirked at it and lightly scoffed, “Because you _are_ a puppy.”

Again Jack’s lips almost curled into a smile.

“Just expect to put on a couple pounds,” Gabriel teased and turned his attention forward as they approached the edge of town. His stomach chose that moment to tune into the conversation and grumble expectantly. “Speaking of food, you okay with burgers?”

Jack shifted in his seat. “I don’t have any money.”

“You really think I expect you to pay?” Gabriel arched a brow, and Jack offered him a weak shrug. With a snort, Gabriel feigned a hurt look and clutched at his chest. “Wow, you really think I’m that heartless.”

“I don’t—”

Gabriel waved him off. “Just tell me what you want to eat, Jackass.”

He swung through the nearest drive thru and found a parking spot in the sun where they could eat while looking out at an empty playground. Gabriel checked his phone, snorting at a picture Jesse sent. A selfie of himself with the rest of the team using the weight room in the background. Across the bottom he’d added the text ‘I am the captain now’.

**Gabe:** `Found Jack. He’ll be staying at my place for a while.`

**McCree:** `What happened?`

**Gabe:** `Tell you later.`

**McCree:** `Need provisions?`

**Gabe:** `Nah, I got this`

A similar text went to Sombra so he could avoid a hundred questions upon returning home with Jack in tow. Afterward he called his mom just to make sure it would be alright for Jack to stay with them. He purposely spoke in Spanish, keeping his tone low and quick to keep Jack from understanding the conversation since his mother kept pressing to know what had happened and why anyone would kick a nice boy like Jack out of the house. After several ‘I don’t know’s, she finally let it go.

Gabriel wrapped up the call when he noticed Jack spacing out, a half eaten burger still in his hand.

“Hey.” He tapped his phone against Jack’s elbow. “What’s wrong?”

“I shouldn’t stay with you.”

Instead of a tap, Gabriel heartily smacked Jack’s shoulder.

“Ow,” Jack said and shot him a look. “ _Geez._ ”

“You’re welcome.” Gabriel flashed a fierce grin. “And thanks, I know, I am the best, aren’t I?”

Jack ruefully rubbed at his arm. “Absolutely.”

Over the next few hours, Gabriel did his best not to smother Jack with attention. At first he wasn’t comfortable letting Jack out of his sight and made excuses to keep him close. He walked him through the house, listing off the simple rules. Shoes came off at the door. Don’t leave cups on the tables. Some foods in the kitchen were for cooking, not eating. Sombra would skin him alive if he touched the wireless router.

Gabriel showed him the stupid things. Where to find the silverware and the drinking cups. He pointed to the power sockets that didn’t work and showed him how to get hot water for a shower. He ran out of useless information after twenty minutes, but Jack dutifully followed after him like a lost puppy. It was a blessing when Sombra and his mother came home and filled the house with some noise.

Sombra shot Gabriel several questioning looks, silently demanding an explanation, but he shook his head. _Not now._

His mother simply hugged Jack before slipping into the kitchen to start on dinner.

Jack was quiet and subdued, but given the events of his morning, Gabriel didn’t expect much else. He wanted to see Jack smile, if only weakly and for the span of a heartbeat, but kept his expectations low. All through dinner Gabriel kept tabs on him. Whenever Jack began staring blankly at his plate of food, Gabriel nudged him with a socked foot to draw him out of his thoughts.

When Jack rose from the table, excusing himself to the bathroom, Gabriel frowned while curbing the urge to fuss like a mother hen. He met the matching looks of concern from his mother and Sombra. Jack’s plate remained full, spare a few missing bites.

“He’ll be fine,” Gabriel said for his own peace of mind.

Jack didn’t return to the dinner table.

Everyone needed space, Gabriel reminded himself, and left it alone.

After dinner it was an unspoken weekend tradition to sit with his mother and watch an episode of her favorite daytime soaps saved to the DVR. They all had busy schedules, so the little bit of time they spent together in the evenings was important. Gabriel wouldn’t skip it, even if he barely paid attention to the show because his gaze kept wandering toward the hallway.

As soon as the credits began scrolling across the tv screen, Gabriel was on his feet and knocking on the door of the bathroom. “That wasn’t even spicy, white boy. You alive in there?”

No answer.

Gabriel set his hands against the door frame and strained to hear any sounds of movement. Nothing. A grotesque image of Jack lying on the floor in a pool of blood flashed through his thoughts. He ignored it, only for the blood to be replaced by empty pill bottles. Gabriel rubbed at his brow, trying to erase the images, then curled his hand around the doorknob. His heart lodged in his throat as he eased the door open.

The bathroom was empty. Gabriel checked behind the shower curtain to be sure, then stepped back out into the hall. Panic sent a chill sweeping down his spine. As calmly as possible, to not tip off his family, Gabriel searched the house. When he found Jack — in his bedroom, curled up on the bed and facing the wall — Gabriel sagged with relief.

After a deep breath, Gabriel straightened and shut his bedroom door. “Don’t disappear like that, Jack.”

“Sorry,” Jack said in a hoarse whisper and covered his face with an arm. “I didn’t know where to go.”

“I’m just glad you didn’t duck out the back door.”

“I don’t have anywhere to go.”

Sighing, Gabriel sat down on the edge of the bed and leaned against the curve of Jack’s back. When he’d been young, he’d thought about running away from home and had thought the same thing, about having nowhere to go, but even living in some cardboard box in an alley had sounded better than staying one more night in the same house as his father. He’d changed his mind on account of his sister being left to deal with it alone.

Gabriel leaned more heavily against Jack. “I know it sucks right now, but it’ll get better.”

“Doesn’t feel like it,” Jack’s voice trembled.

Gabriel half turned and gently squeezed Jack’s arm, hating that he didn’t know how to ease the pain. He scanned his room for inspiration, but all his heart wanted to do was wrap Jack up in a protective embrace.

He settled for rubbing his thumb back and forth over Jack’s elbow.

Jack sniffed and pulled his arm away from Gabriel’s touch. “Why are you being so nice?”

“Because I’m an awesome friend?”

“We’ve never been friends.”

The truth of the statement socked Gabriel in the gut. His shoulders tensed while his hand retracted and fell limply into his lap. They got along well enough to be friends, but Gabriel had the habit of pushing people back before they got too close. The situation with his family made it tough. He couldn’t risk word getting around because then CPS would get involved and break his family apart. It all hinged around his mother. Some days Gabriel felt so furious with her inability to take legal action against his father. If she would just press charges, or file a report, things could have been different for all of them.

Gabriel didn’t keep close friends, but he’d taken Jesse in under his wing, because he sympathized with Jesse’s shitty home life. Now he wanted to pull Jack into his small, inner circle, but their past muddied the waters. He didn’t blame Jack for questioning the change of heart.

“What do you want, Jack?” Gabriel asked with a sinking heart. “Do you want me to be mean instead?”

“A little.”

Unless Jack was secretly some sort of masochist, Gabriel couldn’t make sense of the response. He studied the line of Jack’s shoulders before reaching over and tugging away the arm shielding his face. Jack glared at the wall, determined to be stoic even though his eyes were red and his cheeks were damp.

Gabriel watched his face for any hidden clues as he softly asked, “Why?”

“Because,” Jack said, then paused to wipe at his cheeks and sniff back the raw emotion crackling behind the words. “I don’t know.”

“Try again.”

The muscle in Jack’s jaw flexed and he shot Gabriel a fierce look. “Because I don’t want to feel like this anymore.”

“So you want me to be mean,” Gabriel slowly reasoned out the meaning behind the words, “so you’ll feel angry, instead of sad?”

Jack’s gaze returned to the wall without commenting.

Gabriel could relate, in a way, to the desire of wanting to feel something else — anything else — besides the soul sucking gloom of sadness. Booze and drugs were not a healthy way to deal with his problems, but he’d never considered putting a gun to his head. He wondered how desperate Jack felt to have considered it. Did he put the gun to his temple? Under his chin? In his mouth so he could taste the metal on his tongue? Did he sit out there, gun in his hands, flicking the safety on and off as he considered the pros and cons of his actions.

On, he didn’t want to die.

Off, he wanted to stop feeling like shit.

Gabriel rubbed at his own arm as he spoke, “I usually go out and do stupid shit until the feeling goes away.”

“So let’s go do stupid shit,” Jack mumbled.

With a grimace, Gabriel stretched out alongside Jack and stared hard at the back of his head. “You shouldn’t get involved with that crap.”

“Why?” Jack angrily gestured at the wall. “Because I’m some golden boy?”

“Because it doesn’t really help,” Gabriel growled back. “It might take the edge off, but it just makes new problems when you start relying on that shit to solve your problems. They’re just _band-aids_.”

“Band-aids help heal—”

“This isn’t a cut on the finger, smart ass.” Gabriel prodded a finger between Jack’s shoulders. “That’s like expecting a kiss to take away the pain from your boo-boo. You want a kiss with that band-aid?”

Jack rolled over, livid. Of all the things Gabriel expected to accompany the thunderous look — being shoved off the bed, taking a sucker punch to the nose — he never anticipated Jack to cup his face before darting forward and planting a quick, chaste kiss on his lips. Jack retreated at once, his expression hard, and Gabriel could do little but stare at him in return.

What?

His mind remained blank while simultaneously working in overdrive to rework the foundation of thoughts he had in regards to Jack. He re-analyzed every interaction they had in the past, every conversation, every fleeting look and warm blush. The shy smiles. He’d gotten it wrong. He’d written off Jack’s odd behavior, reasoning that Jack was just an awkward, reserved farm kid, that he was in a devoted relationship with Angela.

He’d gotten it wrong?

Or, Gabriel reasoned while his heart continued to flutter, Jack was just calling the bluff to his words. Or trying to instigate a fight as a means to avoid the conversation Gabriel was attempting to have with him.

The longer Gabriel considered the different possibilities, the more afraid Jack looked by the lack of reaction.

Gabriel searched Jack’s face a moment longer before lifting his brows and asking, “Did a kiss make it all better?”

Jack visibly swallowed before whispering, “I think my heart is going to explode.”

A vulnerability exposed itself in Jack’s blue eyes and a vibrant blush flooded into his cheeks. Gabriel felt the tension between them, humming slightly off key, similar to the way he’d felt after first waking up in Jack’s living room. He’d puzzled over it then, but — maybe because they were both lying in bed — now he felt the magnetic pull it created. It wasn’t off key, it was the satisfying thrum of finally being in tune with each other.

How had he missed it?

Gabriel lightly brushed his fingertips along Jack’s warm cheek. “Probably because I’m supposed to be the one kissing away the pain.”

Gabriel leaned forward while curling his fingers against the back of Jack’s neck. His lips hovered over Jack’s, their noses brushed, and Gabriel lingered there, offering Jack the chance to push him away while taking stock of his own feelings. The ache in him to close the gap, the electricity dancing through every nerve, the way his heart trembled with nervous anticipation.

All green lights.

Jack’s exhales, short and rapid against his lips, drew him in like a tow line until finally their lips met.

 _Yes_ , Gabriel thought with a hum of satisfaction and closed his eyes. He tested the waters, keeping the kiss light as he alternated between Jack’s upper lip and his lower in search of the best way to slot their mouths together. A heat grew inside of him. When Jack responded, finally getting the memo that the kiss was real and not a joke, Gabriel parted his lips to the shy pass of Jack’s tongue and deepened it.

It was everything Gabriel ever wanted in a kiss; a dizzying heat, a mind-numbing burst of electricity. It felt good, beyond good, and he greedily wanted more. Jack pressed against him, starving, and it gave Gabriel such a fantastic rush. A fresh lust sang through his veins. But, with a reluctant groan, Gabriel ended the kiss.

He pulled back, sliding his thumb over Jack’s lips to stop him from chasing after it. Jack’s eyes cracked open, glazed over but beautifully vibrant; the clear, cerulean blue of coastal waters welcoming him to the warm sands of a secret beach.

Gabriel smirked at him. “Feeling better yet?”

Jack’s gaze sharpened as he pushed aside Gabriel’s hand. “Not yet,” he said and pulled Gabriel back into the hungry kiss.

A chuckle Gabriel couldn’t quite suppress momentarily hindered Jack’s zealous lips, but soon enough Gabriel found himself swept up in a whirlwind of euphoric sensations. The needy sound Jack made in the back of his throat made Gabriel’s groin tighten. Fire roared through him. He slid a thigh between Jack’s and rolled on top of him. He canted his hips forward, seeking the bliss of friction, and gasped at the hardness pressing back against him.

He drew back, breaking the kiss. “Is that— ”

“W-what?” Jack’s eyes were dark; pupils blown and the irises transformed into a midnight blue. He was panting, flushed, and he searched Gabriel’s face with growing apprehension.

Amused, Gabriel rolled his hips forward a second time, rubbing against Jack’s clothed bulge. Firm and undeniable; yes, that was definitely Jack’s erection. Even through the fabric of jeans, the reaction in Jack was immediate. His pupils dilated further, his eyes fluttered closed, then his head lolled back, exposing the pale column of his neck.

“Fuck,” Jack swore, breathless, and his fingers dug into Gabriel’s forearms.

Gabriel clutched at the bedsheets as a pleasant shiver raced down his spine. He rocked against Jack, lost to the cloying haze of pleasure, transfixed by the marvelous sight of Jack arching beneath him. Gabriel's cock twitched, swelling further with approval at the low, shameless groan escaping Jack. A sweet, alluring music.

Blood hammered in Gabriel’s ears. He’d always wanted to know what it’d be like to fool around with a guy, but he never imagined it to be so electric; sparking wires and pooling lava.

He almost felt embarrassed by the fact he was so close to cresting the point of no return. The sounds alone teased him toward the edge. Gabriel needed it; he needed _Jack_. Sitting back on his heels, Gabriel thumbed the button of Jack’s jeans, eager to peel away the layers of clothing and explore further, to know the feel of skin on skin, hard against hard. Never had he imagined it would one day be Jack beneath him. Jack who— 

Gabriel paused.

Jack who wanted a distraction — who was hurting so bad he wanted to die.

The blissful rush plunged into a pool of ice. With a growl, Gabriel retreated. “We’re not doing this.”

“I—” Jack edged up on his elbows, his chest heaving, and once again pale with terror. “Why?”

Gabriel had the terrible inkling he was making things worse. No matter what he did, he kept fucking it up. He scrubbed a hand over his brow, unable to fully meet Jack’s eyes. “This is a band-aid, Jack”

“I like band-aids,” Jack’s voice quavered.

Gabriel dragged the hand down his face and firmed a look on Jack’s broken expression. _Shit_. He wished he could take it all back. Wished he hadn’t been an idiot and acted on his own selfish desires. But he couldn’t change things. And he couldn’t stomach going through with it knowing Jack’s fragile state of mind.

“We’re not doing this,” he said again, squeezing Jack’s knee to soften the harsh edge to the words.

Jack’s breathing grew shallow and his eyes darted away. He twisted around and scrambled to get away. Gabriel caught his wrists and pinned him down. Jack jerked, bucked, and flashed his teeth. He glared, but Gabriel only held him down more firmly in response. He wasn’t going to let Jack run away.

“ _This_ is why, Jack,” Gabriel said. “You’re not in the right headspace for this.”

“Get off,” Jack growled.

“Not until you calm down.”

“ _Gabriel_.”

“No.” He shifted to straddle Jack’s waist and free his hands. He cupped either side of Jack’s face and held his panicked gaze. “You were going to kill yourself this morning.” Jack’s jaw clenched under his palms. “I don’t know how you got to that point but kissing isn’t going to make it better.”

Jack turned his face away, as far as he could while still being held by Gabriel. “I didn’t think you’d kiss me back.”

“You—” Gabriel paused to divest the information. “Then why the hell did you do it?”

Jack’s expression began to soften and his eyes glistened with the underlying pain and fear. He shrugged, weakly. “I guess with everything else going to shit in my life, I just wanted to know…”

“Know what?”

Jack pinched his eyes shut and again Gabriel felt his jaw flex, biting down on the things he wouldn’t say. Gabriel shook his head and gently brushed his thumb along Jack’s cheekbone.

“You kissed me,” Gabriel started, waiting for Jack to look at him before continuing, “while expecting to be rejected. Then what? I beat the shit out of you? Kick you out of the house? Why the hell would you want that to happen?”

Tears welled in Jack’s eyes while his lips remained in a firm, thin line.

“God, Jack.” Gabriel bent forward to press his forehead to Jack’s. “I don’t know what the hell is going on in your head, but you need to figure it out. I want to help, but I can’t. No amount of kissing is going to fix whatever mess you’ve got going on inside.”

Jack audibly swallowed. “Does this mean someday we could…?”

_Kiss? Mess around? Be together?_

Gabriel studied Jack’s hopeful expression while his heart ached. He wanted to say yes, but there were more than a handful of reasons for him to say no. Red flags were waving for him to distance himself. Gabriel wouldn’t abandon Jack, no, but he didn’t want to be a crutch or a means to fill the painful void inside of Jack. It had all the makings of a heart breaking disaster.

And, deep down, Gabriel knew he’d fuck it up.

He laid next to Jack, his fingers still caressing across Jack’s cheek to keep those blue eyes with him. "You need to be happy with yourself before adding someone else into the mix.”

Jack deflated and stared up at the ceiling. After a long moment he said, “Sorry for kissing you.”

“Bullshit.” Gabriel planted a quick kiss to Jack’s cheek before hopping off the bed. “You are so not sorry for that.”

A flicker of amusement lit up Jack’s eyes.

“You can have the bed tonight. I’ll sleep on the floor.” Gabriel rummaged through his drawers for a pair of shorts to sleep in and stepped toward the door. “I’m going to take a shower.” A nice hot shower where he could release the tension in his groin, otherwise he might go back on his choice to stop things.

He walked out of the room, already queueing up a sound track of the shameless sounds that had escaped past Jack’ steely resolve, imagining how beautifully Jack would sing as he unraveled.

:::  
_Take me in_  
_Free your ghosts  
No they can't  
Haunt us both_  
:::


	13. X & Y - Coldplay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted a mid-week update  
> last Wednesday.  
> Be sure to read it :)

  


::  
_I dive in at the deep end  
and you become my best friend  
I want to love you but I don’t know if I can_  
:::

5:20 a.m.

The red, digital numbers glared at Jack from where the clock perched tauntingly out of reach on Gabriel’s dresser. He'd managed a few hours of sleep before waking near the break of dawn. As soon as his eyes had cracked open, teased with consciousness, a wounded hope had crawled into his chest and had prodded at his sore heart. A rush of wordless thoughts filled his head like a sudden storm gale bursting through an open window and sleep fled him. Everything hurt. The world no longer felt like it was falling out from under his feet but, even so, Jack rejected the idea of leaving the safety the warm bed provided. It smelled like Gabriel. A surge of giddiness quickened Jack’s pulse and he grinned into the pillow.

Gabriel had kissed him.

Champagne bubbles of joy filled him and his mind spun drunkenly through a waltz while heat prickled along his skin. He relived the feel of the Gabriel's weight pressing him down and the charged kiss arcing between them like two cut, live wires. The high lasted several seconds before retreating like a tide, drawing back to reveal the stagnant muck beneath the cool, refreshing waters. Gabriel was right. The kissing was a nice distraction, but it was a band-aid over a gushing wound. It wouldn’t fix the broken parts of himself. It didn’t change the fact that he’d been kicked out of his home. Nor did it take back that his darkest secret had been exposed, his father knew his shame.

Jack’s heart sank and again he stared at the creeping time. It was Sunday. His usual routine was to rise early, knock out a chore, shower, then join his parents for a simple breakfast of eggs, toast, and bacon before leaving together for church. They’d attend both services and stay for lunch. An ache echoed in the new hollow spot of Jack's life. Church didn’t mean anything to him, but family did, and he’d lost his. He wanted to go to church to grasp the lost feeling of home. Even the monotony of chores sounded appealing for the sense of familiarity it gave.

The idleness made him uncomfortable, but he didn’t know what else to do aside from listen to Gabriel softly snore from the floor. The quiet evoked yesterday’s events. The weight of the gun in his hand. The knife in his heart. The fury in his father’s face as he grabbed his arm, telling him to not come home until ‘this phase’ passed.

A cold wash of guilt slid over Jack as he considered the idea of shunning himself and crawling back to the farm with his tail tucked between his legs.

“Hey Gabe?”

Gabriel sat straight up, inhaling deeply as he rubbed at his eyes. It took a moment longer for his brain to kick into gear and he blearily looked at Jack. “What?”

“I was thinking about going for a run.”

Gabriel stared for a second longer, glanced at the clock, then loudly groaned. “What the fuck? No, _no_.” He continued swearing under his breath as he crawled into the bed, climbing over Jack to push him toward the edge. “Get out. I’m taking the bed. You go for your stupid run at five in the fucking morning on a weekend. I hate you. Get out of my bed.”

Jack's bare feet scuffed the carpet as he sat up, amused at the sight of Gabriel curling into the nest of warm blankets. “I take it you don’t want to go with me?”

A foot to the small of his back, and a firm shove, was Gabriel’s reply.

The light from the closet was enough for Jack to see as he dug through his pack. Inside he found six different shirts, a single pair of pants, a sweater, and one sock. Nothing suited for a jog. Jack pulled out the sweater and froze when a folded paper came out with it. It tumbled through the air and landed against his foot. His note. His goodbye letter. He'd forgotten about it and his heart seized up with a bone chilling fear at the thought of what might have happened if Gabriel hadn’t seen it and stuffed it into the pack.

What if his mother had found it?

Jack’s stomach lurched and his vision blurred with angry tears. He dropped the pack and picked up the letter without opening it. He set it aside and felt it glare at him while he scrounged for clothes. He ended up borrowing a pair of gym shorts from Gabriel’s dresser, pulling on the sweatshirt from his pack, and settling for going barefoot because Gabriel’s shoes were too big and his own boots were not meant for running.

Jack stuffed the letter into his pocket and slipped out the door.

The sun sat just below the horizon, teasing the skyline with a thin line of silver ghosted by a faint blue. Frost clung to the grass and gave the sidewalk an icy skin. Jack eyed the toed prints left in his wake and chuckled with a mad, childish delight at the confusion it’d give a passing stranger.

He began with a light jog, heading nowhere but away from his problems, and when his misery began creeping over his thoughts, he burst into a run. After a few blocks, the cold burned at his feet and clawed at his lungs. He ran faster.

A few moments of freedom was all he wanted; some time where he didn’t have to think about anything or be anyone.

Ever since Ben died, Jack had lived for others. He played a role, fit where people needed him because doing something for himself, because he wanted it, reminded him of how selfish he’d been, how his petty wants had killed his brother.

Faster; the skin of his feet felt like it was ripping open against the sharp texture of concrete.

He'd torn his family apart because he _wanted_ —

His own life? To be himself?

He'd cost Ben his life, he didn't deserve—

_It's not fair._

He just wanted to — _live a little_.

Jack slid to a stop at a covered bus stop as his despair caught up with him. His throat screamed with pain, his feet felt like ice blocks, and his heart throbbed. He sat on the bench and brought his knees up to his chest so he could wrap his hands around his feet. He shivered while rocking back and forth, trying to warm up and to stave off the distress pooling in his chest. Jack didn’t know whether to laugh or cry to expel tightness cinching around his soul.

He did a little of both.

He drew up the hood of the sweatshirt before drawing the folded paper from his pocket. It crinkled as he clutched it in his fist. It was a long-winded apology for everything. How sorry he was about Ben. How sorry he couldn’t be a better person. Like everything was his fault. The poison of it trickled through his veins. No one should know how the barrel of a gun felt when pressed against the skin. How cold it felt against his temple, how loud the safety sounded when it clicked off, how terrifying it was to feel the end within reach as his finger curled around the trigger.

Jack gripped the letter with both hands and tore it apart.

The dawn warmed with wisps of yellow and thin clouds stretched across the open sky. Jack didn’t know what time it was by the time he wandered back to Gabriel’s house, but it must have been a while because Gabriel met him at the door. He was dressed and had on his shoes, jacket, and held his car keys in one hand. He glared, but kept his words behind clenched teeth.

Jack stood on the door mat, the scribblings of misery vandalizing the inside of the hollowness haunting him.

“Get in here,” Gabriel sighed and pulled Jack over the threshold.

The warm carpet felt nice after the cold, rough sidewalk. Jack wiped at his face before turning to face Gabriel’s ire.

“Sorry—” Jack started.

“Don’t.” Gabriel bit off the apology and his scowl faded. “I’m just glad you’re back. You don’t need to apologize.”

“But—”

“Jack, I swear to god, if you act any more like a kicked puppy I’m going to sic my mom on you.”

Jack smiled down at his feet as he scuffed them on the carpet. It was nice to be cared about. His mother loved him, naturally, but she didn’t see him, not in the way Jack felt seen by Gabriel. Here he was a person, not a cog in a machine, not a cracked pillar supporting the last beam of a collapsing house.

“Did you — “ Gabriel started then stopped, also looking down at Jack’s feet. “Where are your shoes?”

Jack rubbed at the back of his neck as he flashed Gabriel a sheepish smile. “About that, will you take me back out to the farm so I can get some stuff? My parents should be at church all morning.”

“Yeah, we can do that,” Gabriel said while his brow furrowed. His eyes snapped back up to Jack’s face. “Are those my shorts?”

Cheek finally warming, Jack eased toward the stairs. “I’m just going to go change real quick.”

* * *

Monday morning arrived with fresh, turbulent waves of anxiety. Jack dreaded returning to school. Breakfast sat like a rock in his stomach as they pulled into the parking lot. Gabriel didn’t say anything, but Jack caught his concerned glances more than once. Jack wanted to brush it off, to tell Gabriel he would be fine, but as he climbed out of the car, his head spun like a merry-go-round and he clutched at the door.

Gabriel’s hand brushed his elbow in silent encouragement. It was enough to quell the urge to crawl back into the car and lock the doors. After a couple deep breaths, Jack stepped back into motion — with Gabriel at his side. The sickening dismay gave way to surreality as Gabriel stuck by him all the way through the hall and to his locker Several curious looks followed them. Jack felt them like razors, but Gabriel paid them no mind. In fact, he seemed rather oblivious to the attention they were getting as he leaned against the locker next to Jack’s, watching him gather books for first period.

Jack glanced at him from the corner of his eyes while wondering if he planned to walk him to class as well. The thought made his heart flutter and his fingers slip over the wiry spine of a notebook. His bemused gaze made Gabriel smile, which only served to make the pattering in Jack’s chest worse.

“I’ll see you at lunch.” Gabriel winked and walked off.

Caught in a spell, Jack stared after him. He didn’t know what to make of Gabriel’s demeanor. He’d been kind and attentive (bordering on _pestering_ ) at the house, but this was _school_. This was where everyone could see, everyone could judge.

Jack puzzled over the unexpected behavior until the bell rang.

Classes felt pointless. Jack sat at his desk, staring blankly at his text book while feeling utterly misplaced. No knew about the fight he'd almost lost over the weekend, no one spared him a second glance. The world went on with or without him, and after stumbling over his life, Jack was struggling to catch up.

Lunch arrived, and with it came the missed company of the Spartan team. Sombra offered him a smile with Hana echoing the sentiment. Genji tossed him a wave along with raised, questioning eyebrows. His mother must have given Genji a ride into town which, oddly enough, comforted Jack to know she was stepping out of her comfort zone. Angela was still absent, but Jamison had returned, chatting animatedly to a half-listening Mako.

Jack sat down and was hit by Satya's narrowed eyes.

"Why were you not at practice?" she asked, as if offended that her meticulously constructed timetable had been smudged by his absence.

"I, uh... " Jack's mouth opened and closed on failing words.

"Shit happens," Gabriel said as slid into the seat next to Jack, close enough to bump elbows.

Jack shrugged in apology to Satya before half turning toward Gabriel and halting at the sight of him wearing the blue, hooded sweatshirt loaned to him weeks ago. _Jack's_ sweater. Jack stared at it. Under the table, Gabriel's leg pressed against his, spurring a blush to creep up the sides of his neck.

“I want to talk shop,” Gabriel said.

Jack opened his mouth, but the words escaped him as Gabriel bounced his leg, making it impossible to ignore the continued contract. Gabriel watched him the whole while, his dark eyes intent and amused. Surrounded by the rest of the team, Jack didn’t dare draw attention to it. He resorted to silently searching Gabriel’s expression for an explanation.

Gabriel gestured to the rest of the table. “Everyone is getting bored of running laps and doing weights.”

Still tongue-tied, Jack experimentally pushed back against Gabriel’s leg. Gabriel didn’t pull away. The heat seeped into Jack’s face and he broke eye contact to gather his thoughts. He poked at his lunch, but couldn't string two words together.

A sly grin spread across Gabriel’s face. “Any ideas?”

His face hot, Jack coughed to kick start his mouth into motion. “I thought we could all go on a hike in the spring.”

“That sounds awful.”

The honesty made Jack chuckle. “We could turn it into a camping trip and make them carry the gear.”

“Sounding better _and_ worse.”

“But I don’t know what to do over winter.”

Gabriel’s arm slid over Jack’s shoulders and pulled him closer to conspire. “I was thinking,” he said while Jack’s heart leaped like a startled bird. “What if we scouted out the other teams?”

Jack wanted to melt into the loose embrace, but the presence of the entire lunch room kept his shoulders a rigid line. He stared, unseeing, at the table in front of them. “You want to go spy—”

“Scout.”

“ _Spy_ ,” Jack repeated firmly and peeked at Gabriel’s smirking face. “Is that allowed?”

Gabriel tugged him closer and whispered, “That depends on whether or not you want to have plausible deniability.”

Goosebumps raced down Jack’s spine and, as Gabriel’s thumb lightly passed over the raised skin, Jack became aware of the challenge in Gabriel’s action. It was flirting with a twist. A game Jack realized he was losing with every blush and stumble of words.

“You play dirty,” Jack mumbled.

“Not my fault there are no rules against it.”

Jack couldn’t decide if they were talking about the potential espionage or the low-key flirting. Jack curiously eyed the blue sweater. Gabriel must have packed it that morning with the intention of wearing it at lunch. Gabriel’s wardrobe was a collection of dark colors. Nothing bright. Nothing so clearly belonging to Jack that there could be no mistake that Gabriel had done it on purpose.

 _The gym shorts_ , Jack thought with a snort. The sweater had to be a retaliation for having borrowed the gym shorts without asking. _He wants me to ask about it._

Confident he’d figured out the game, Jack rolled off Gabriel’s arm. He started in on his lunch, countering Gabriel’s moves by feigning not to care about the deliberate choice in wardrobe. “Taking the whole team to spy is not exactly stealthy.”

“I’ll take Jesse and Genji.”

“Are we playing hooky?” Genji piped up at the name drop.

“Where are you going?” Lena said as she arrived to join their table. “I want to go!”

As the attention of the table closed on them, Gabriel gave Jack space while their legs continued to touch. Gabriel considered the team before saying to Jack, “We could split into teams and cover more ground.”

Jack arched a brow at him. “Is this your version of a team building exercise?”

“One of many.”

“I don’t want anyone getting in trouble.”

“Oh,” Gabriel said with a practiced air of resignation, “I guess it’ll just have to be you and me then.”

“Are you—” Jack snapped his mouth shut. It sounded like Gabriel had just floated the idea of a date to him. Paired with the flirting, Jack couldn’t quite throw the thought out even though Gabriel had made it plain and clear that they couldn’t be a thing. At least that had been the case two days ago. Had Gabriel changed his mind? How did that play into the game?

“Do you remember that boy you kissed?” Jesse asked as he sat down across the table from Gabriel.

Jack felt the blood drain from his face and his insides turned to slush. The fork he’d been holding clattered to the floor as he gripped at the edge of the table.

“Who did what?” Gabriel asked, an edge of warning in his words.

“Jack.” Jesse pointed with his fork. “Kissed a boy.”

His heart began to pound in his ears, drowning out the conversation and the noise of the cafeteria. Jack leaned away from Gabriel, severing their contact. The way Jesse grinned felt like a knife in his gut. Twisting, slicing, and sending Jack’s lunch gurgling upward. The conversation between Gabriel and Jesse carried on but Jack heard none of it as he slowly began standing, his eyes flicking toward the exit.

A hand caught Jack by the shoulder and pushed him back down. Gabriel held him there, lightly squeezing at his shoulder. Concern peaked into Gabriel’s golden eyes as Jack silently pleaded to be let go, the air in his lungs caught in the vice-like squeeze of exposure.

“Jack?” Gabriel said softly while his fingers tightened. “Jesse remembers you kissing some boy in grade school.” His eyes narrowed and swung back toward Jesse. "Although I'm not sure why he's bringing it up."

"Jus makin' conversation," Jesse mused.

"Uh-huh," Gabriel toned, unconvinced.

Jack sputtered, “I don’t— I didn’t — “ _It was just his cheek_. He couldn’t even remember the kid’s name. What stuck out in his memory was the aftermath of his careless affection. Sitting in the Principal’s office under the hateful glare of his father. Jack’s gut twisted and he broke out of Gabriel’s hold. “I have to go.”

By the time he reached the hall, he was running. The empty bathroom provided the only solitude Jack could find on short notice. He leaned against the wall between sinks and clamped a hand over his mouth, vying to keep his lunch in his stomach.

 _Fuck_.

Jack squeezed his eyes shut. If he had to pinpoint one of the worst days in his life, that day in third grade was among the top three. Things had been It’d been rough after Ben’s death, but Jack had truly lost his father’s favor that fateful day in third grade. Every day after it Jack had done his best to make amends with his father, but nothing Jack did was good enough.

Jack fisted his hair, wishing he could just rip the memories out of himself because he hated how hard the past could still hit him.

The bathroom door opened and Jack quickly wiped at his face and assumed a stoic expression. Gabriel shut the door and leaned against it. Jack glanced at him before staring forward. “I’m fine.”

Gabriel snorted in disagreement.

“I will be,” Jack amended and clenched his jaw. “You don’t have to follow me around.”

The silence persisted, pressing on the weak points of Jack’s lie. He stalked over to Gabriel and gripped the door handle. He pulled, managing to jerk the door open a couple inches before Gabriel’s weight closed it.

“What the hell was that back there?” Gabriel asked.

“Move,” Jack growled.

“No.”

“ _Gabe_ ,” he warned.

“Jack,” Gabriel said while prying his hand off the door handle. “We’re talking. Now.”

“You didn’t save me,” Jack said, lashing out because he didn’t want to open the wound of his childhood any further. “I chose not to shoot myself, so stop acting like I’m going to slip off and finish the job.”

Gabriel’s lips twitched, flashing his teeth in a snarl before his expression smoothed. “First off, _fuck you_. Second, given that little stunt you pulled out there, forgive me for thinking this shit that's going on in your head isn’t over with. Yeah, you didn’t shoot yourself, _yet_ , but you dipped a toe in to test the waters. How am I to know you’re not just gearing up to take the plunge?”

“I just need some space—”

“So you can bottle it up?”

Jack’s stomach rolled and he stepped back. “Stop.”

“I thought you wanted me to be mean, Jack.”

Jack snapped his arms wide. “How does making me feel worse help?”

“Because ignoring it is how you ended up at this point. Fuck that. You need to learn to face it. Maybe if you confront some of this shit you can work past it and I can stop worrying.”

It wasn’t fair how reasonable Gabriel sounded as they teetered on the brink of a fight. It deftly stole the wind out of Jack’s sails. He deflated while acknowledging the truth in the words. While he didn’t feel as hopeless as he had Saturday morning, the ache continued to scratch at the back of his mind and he didn’t know what else to do other than ignore it.

He sulked at Gabriel. “Since when did you become a therapist?”

“Since I went and read some shit on the internet.” Gabriel smirked and his shoulders visibly relaxed. “So start talking.”

Disinclined to delve into the pain, Jack bided his time by sweeping his gaze over the blue sweater. His eyes hinged on the line of stitches along the sleeve. He thumbed the mended tear before searching Gabriel’s golden eyes.

A hint of color darkened along Gabriel’s cheekbones.

Surprised by the reaction, by the idea that Gabriel had gone out of his way to sew up the sweater, Jack suddenly found his anguish fading like a shadow shrinking away a dawning sun. The earlier, flirtatious game returned to the forefront of Jack's thoughts and he leaned into Gabriel’s personal space while plucking at the hoodie strings. “I want to talk about how you’re wearing my sweater.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Gabriel whispered.

Curious to find where Gabriel drew the line, to know whether or not their interactions were limited to friendly banter treading dangerously close to flirting, Jack dipped in close enough to feel the heat of Gabriel’s skin on his lips, then retreated back, half the distance gained, to gauge the response.

Gabriel met his gaze, hooked but unmoved.

Slower, Jack leaned in again, lips hovering over Gabriel’s, daring to push at the self imposed boundary.

Gabriel didn’t budge from the door, but tilted his head up in the barest of invitations.

Caught in the gravity, Jack closed the shrinking gap and captured Gabriel’s lips in a shy kiss. Gabriel returned it and Jack savored the way his heart preened and fluttered, how the simple contact sent a cascade of hot sparks down his spine.

“I think,” Jack pulled back just enough to murmur, “you wanted to wind me up to see what I’d do.”

Gabriel brushed their lips together. “And I think you’re trying to distract me.”

Guilty as charged, Jack grinned. “Is it working?”

“Jackass,” Gabriel said while cupping the side of Jack's face. Instead of pulling them back together, Gabriel slid a thumb between their lips. “I’m still annoyed with you.”

Jack curled his lips around the edges of Gabriel’s thumb, pleased when Gabriel sucked in a small breath and his pupils widened. Dark, interested, yet Gabriel eased them further apart. “Tell me why you freaked out.”

Intoxicated by the touch, by the allowance he had to kiss Gabriel and apparently get away with it, Jack lost his will to resist. “That day, the one Jesse remembers, I got sent to the principal’s office for that. He called my parents in to talk about my ‘inappropriate behavior’ and my dad…” Jack gripped Gabriel’s hand, the one holding his face, and braced himself against the sinking dread roped around his chest like a dropping anchor. “The way my dad looked at me after they told him I had kissed a boy, it just — it still makes me feel sick. It hurts. It feels like my heart is being crushed.”

Gabriel’s thumb brushed along Jack’s cheek in silent encouragement.

Jack closed his eyes and turned his face into Gabriel’s warm palm, muffling the rest of his words. “It makes me feel so ashamed of myself. Like I’m this dirty, awful _thing_ — and I just want to curl up and die.”

“Parents suck.” Their noses brushed as Gabriel rewarded Jack with a tender kiss, the contact better than the words.

Jack melted into it. Warmth spread through his chest and lapped at the edges of the wound deep inside of him, touched at things long left ignored. Tears welled up behind his closed eyes and clung to his lashes before falling down his cheek. _Dammit_. Jack hid his face against Gabriel’s shoulder to hide it. After years of pushing down his emotions, he hated how they were now springing back and forth all over the place.

“Feeling better?” Gabriel teased while carding his fingers in Jack’s hair.

Jack sniffed before muttering, “If I say no do I get more kisses?”

Gabriel pulled Jack into a loose hug. “No more kisses.”

Disappointed, Jack sighed and wrapped his arms around Gabriel’s waist. He tightened the hug, soaking in every bit of comfort it offered. “You know,” Jack said while turning his face to look up at Gabriel. “I used to be really good at ignoring—" saying it out loud was still difficult. " _This_ ," he settled on with a pointed pause. "Until you kissed me.”

Gabriel’s brow lifted. “In case you forgot, you kissed me first.”

“No, you did — before all this.”

“I didn’t—” Gabriel stiffened as his golden eyes flicked back and forth over an invisible, urgent memo. “What? No, _no_.” Embarrassment cascaded over Gabriel’s expression as he pushed up Jack’s sleeve to reveal the old surgery scar. His fingers traced over it, lightly, as if it was an illusion. “I thought that was a dream.”

Jack’s eyes widened. “You _remember_?”

“No?” Gabriel’s gaze darted away.

Jack gawked at him for a full second before grinning wildly. “Apparently I have blue blue eyes? Bluey-blue, the bluest blue—”

“Shut up!” Gabriel covered his darkening features with both hands. “I can’t believe I said that to you.” He groaned. “That explains why you were acting so weird the next day and — _fuck_ — Jesse heard everything. No wonder he’s been leering at me.”

Jack pulled away Gabriel’s masking hands. “What _did_ you say to me in the truck?”

“No, no, no—”

“Yes, yes, yes!”

“I don’t remember!”

“Liar.” Jack buzzed with satisfaction while admiring the tell-tale blush. “I’ll just ask Jes—”

Gabriel yanked him forward into a fierce kiss. It stunned Jack into silence, at least until a bubbling laughter sputtered forth between their lips. Jack couldn’t stop smiling.

“Now who is trying to distract who?” Jack teased.

“It worked for a second,” Gabriel growled and lightly nipped at Jack’s lower lip.

Heat pooled low in Jack’s abdomen and he chased after the kiss. Gabriel held him back, barely. Their lips continued to graze over each other, hungry for more.

“One of the things I said.” The low timbres of Gabriel’s voice fanned the flames burning through Jack’s veins. “Was ‘I want to kiss you just so you’ll shut up’.”

Jack chuckled softly. “I remember the _quiero_ part.”

“You’re such a dork,” Gabriel said with such an aching fondness that Jack couldn’t help but smile drunkenly from the attention. Something swelled and burst in his chest, trickling as an euphoric warmth through the rest of his body. And, as he memorized Gabriel’s open expression of adoration, Jack fell in love. His heart tumbled over the edge and he knew he’d never get it back.

He drew Gabriel into another kiss. Light, but intense enough to make his soul sing and his nerves buzz on the verge of over stimulation.

Then something thumped, bodily, into the other side of the door.

“What the fuck?” a boy said from the hall.

Gabriel and Jack exchanged looks, snickered, and pushed back at the door when the boy tried to push it open.

“Fuckers!” The boy pounded his fist against the door. “Let me in!”

“ _¡Ocupado!_ ” Jack shouted back.

Gabriel burst out laughing. Jack joined him and they spent the rest of the lunch catching their breaths. The bell marked their separation and Jack returned to his locker, smiling the whole way. He floated through the rest of the day on a high, his heart soaring and singing with heavenly praises. He was in love. His good mood paid no mind to the shadowy doubts lurking in the corners. Words of caution drifted in and out of his thoughts like a half-known song playing on a radio. A song about love, but he only knew the words to the first verse and didn’t hear the pain in the chorus.

:::  
_I know something is broken_  
_and I’m trying to fix it  
Trying to repair it anyway I can_  
:::


	14. Lovers Eyes - Mumford and Sons

:::  
_Love was kind for a time  
But now just aches and it makes me blind_  
:::

A mound of baked clay sat on the edge of Ana Amari’s desk. It was speckled with hints of its original color, but had been mashed to a point of grayness with no hopes of regaining its original luster. Jack couldn’t quite tell what it was meant to be. It had the bulbous shape of a turtle, or an upside down bowl, but had one too many leg-like appendages sitting under it like campfire logs. It could have been a jellyfish. Jack squinted at the gray mass before analyzing the rest of the knick-knacks. Hand-drawn cards featuring tall flowers and stick figures frolicking under a cheerful sun, a pencil cup painted with dancing goats, and several army men snipers lying along the edge.

“I wish you would have told me sooner,” Principal Amari said.

Sporting a freshly bruised and swollen eye, a busted lip, and a smattering of small bruises, Jack shrugged and adjusted the ice pack to press against the worst of the swelling. “I thought they’d get bored of harassing me.”

“How long has this been going on?”

“About a month.”

Jack had spent an awkward Thanksgiving at the Reyes’ house. It involved a kitchen and living room full of extended family and a lot of noise. Jack had tried hiding out in Gabriel’s room, but Sombra kept dragging him around and roping him into conversations. It wasn’t like church, where everyone smiled and asked polite questions. Gabriel’s family wanted to know why he was staying there, why he couldn’t go home, and if he was on the hockey team with Gabriel.

Jack resorted to playing with the children in the backyard to avoid talking to anyone.

Gabriel had been distracted during the whole affair. Jack had found him haunting the space near the front windows in a pensive silence and offering little more than a couple noncommittal grunts as conversation. He'd taken his dour mood onto the front porch, nursing a bottle of cheap beer. It was only later Jack learned, from Sombra, that Gabriel had been watching for their father. Apparently the man had a habit of showing up around the holidays, angry and bitter they were celebrating without him.

Christmas Break was nearing and with it came a gaping feeling of loss. Jack loved Christmas; from baking sweets to wrapping presents, from trimming a tree to shoveling sidewalks. It was a holiday for giving, something Jack had strived to be since he’d been young, but now the festive time loomed darkly on the horizon, reminding him of the pieces missing from his life; threatening to knock down all the hard work he’d put toward pulling himself back together.

“So what happens now?” he asked.

“Well, your story is quite different than Liam’s, but I think the injuries speak the truth of it.”

The worst of Jack’s fears had passed after being caught sharing an embrace with Gabriel. Just a hug, a rather intimate hug, but the events that followed confirmed the suspicions his father had been harboring for years. Jack’s sexuality was known, and in return he’d been kicked out, disowned, but with each passing week, the pain of it dulled. It never went away, but life moved on and Jack was gradually finding his footing.

One thing he’d decided was that he was through taking shit from people like Liam.

All it had taken was one well placed punch to Liam’s solar plexus, winding him, to start a fight. Jack had taken the brunt of the hits, on purpose, while his own blows landed where they wouldn’t leave evidence. He wanted the cuts, the bruises, and the splattering of blood down his shirt because he knew how it’d look to an outsider. Making it look like Liam and his goonish friend had jumped him in the locker room was an underhanded tactic, but Jack didn’t care as long as it got the desired result. He wanted Liam gone.

“I will have to call your parents,” Ana spoke while pulling up his contact information on her computer. “They will need to come pick you up.”

Jack grimaced and his stomach turned at the words. “You can’t.”

“I’m sorry, Jack. It’s school policy.”

“No, I mean — my dad kicked me out of the house over a week ago.”

Ana’s hands stilled over the keyboard. “Why?”

He sighed, not wanting to go over it again. He’d already explained why Liam was harassing him. The dots were there for her to connect, yet she continued to stare at him, waiting. He squirmed and dropped his gaze to the mysterious mound of clay. Putting the words together in his head wasn’t difficult, but saying them out loud was like pulling teeth. “Because he doesn’t want a gay son?”

Ana folded her hands. “I’m going to send you to the counselor—”

“No, I don’t—”

“I feel this is the best course of action. He can get in touch with your parents and get this whole matter sorted out.”

Jack whined and slumped into the chair. The last time he’d been sent to Zenyatta’s office, he’d spent the half hour in silence, sitting on a bean bag, having been instructed to reflect on why he felt the need to protect his peers. Why, because if he didn’t, Gabriel was going to beat the shit out of them. It didn’t seem like such a mind-bending puzzle to him, but Zenyatta kept hinting at there being some underlying issues at hand.

“Where have you been staying?” Amari asked.

“With the Reyeses.”

“With—” Ana’s brows raised as her eyes widened. “Gabriel Reyes?”

Jack smirked. If someone had told him, at the beginning of the school year, that he’d end up staying at Gabriel’s house, Jack would have reacted with a similar expression of disbelief. Ana recovered and pinned Jack with a narrowed look. She was not amused. Without another word, she stepped out of the office. Jack listened through the ajar door as she sent the secretary to fetch Gabriel.

Five minutes later, Gabriel cautiously stepped into the room and sat down after Amari gestured to the empty chair. Jack kept his face turned away from him, hiding the worst of the injuries.

“What’s this about?” Gabriel asked, side-glancing at Jack.

Ana sat behind her desk and folded her hands. “Jack tells me he’s been staying at your place.”

“Yeah, so?”

“I—” Ana stumbled over several other starters before pressing her lips together. She began straightening the papers on her desk. “Would you mind taking him home then? I’ll excuse you from the rest of your classes.”

“Why?” Gabriel asked Ana first, then peered at Jack and repeated the question with a demanding edge. “Why?”

Jack sank further into his seat.

Ana cleared her throat to pull back Gabriel’s attention. “He was in an altercation and it’s school policy that he be sent home.”

“Who was he fighting with?”

“That is none of your concern.”

“Like hell—”

“Gabe,” Jack bit off Gabriel’s bubbling outrage before it could get them both into trouble. He shifted in the chair and dropped his hand, revealing the cuts and bruises. Gabriel’s eyes hardened, the muscle along his jaw jumped, and Jack found the murderous look oddly flattering, making his heart flutter foolishly when tacted to the idea of Gabriel beating the shit out of Liam on his behalf.

“See Jack home,” Ana dismissed them.

They made it to the parking lot before Gabriel grabbed Jack’s shoulder, spinning him around, and gently taking his face between his calloused hands to get a better look at the injuries.

“I’m fine,” Jack protested while tilting his head out of the hold. “And stop glaring at me, I’m not going to tell you who—”

“Liam did it.”

Jack’s eyes widened. “W-what? No—”

“He was sitting outside the office when I came down,” Gabriel explained, observant as ever. His golden eyes tracked back and forth over Jack’s bruised face. “And your reaction just now confirmed it.”

Jack’s shoulders slumped as he sighed, “Don’t do anything.”

“Can’t promise that, Jack.”

As charming as it was for Gabriel to be itching to dole out a bit of vengeance, no good would come of it. Gabriel had too much to lose. It wasn’t just about Gabriel getting caught, expelled, and losing his scholarship. It was the fact Gabriel was eighteen and could be charged as an adult for assault. It was about where the anger and violence manifested from. The root of the problem, twisted so deep into Gabriel’s childhood and tangled around his every choice. Gabriel vied to not be his father, Jack believed, but the anger and the tendency to lash out remained.

Jack pouted, hoping the puppy-eyed look would quell Gabriel’s dark mood. “I’m serious.”

“If you think I am just going to let him get away with—” Gabriel pressed his lips together as he took in Jack’s pleading look. His eyes narrowed, unamused and annoyed, but the tension wrenching between his shoulders loosened. He scowled at the cars instead of Jack. “Fine. Whatever. Let’s get you home and cleaned up before my mom sees your face.”

Jack licked at the cut on his lip and glanced at the blood spotting his shirt. He'd wanted to paint a scene for Amari to misinterpret, but he hadn't thought how everyone beyond her would react.

“Liam didn’t have a mark on him,” Gabriel stated as the mental gears turned further.

With a dismissive shrug, Jack slipped into the car and buckled in. Gabriel, glowering, did the same. As Gabriel drove, his thumbs rapidly tapped against the steering wheel until, after several blocks, he jerked the wheel to the side and slammed the shifter into park. Gabriel curled his hands back around the steering wheel and glared out the front window. It was several tense seconds before he asked, “Is this going to be a thing?”

“What?” Jack asked, his tone inching high with alarm.

Gabriel’s fingers flexed over the wheel. “You letting pieces of shit like Liam beat you up.”

“I didn’t—” Jack balked under the vehement glare Gabriel pinned on him. He ducked his head and sighed. “Okay, I did, but only because I wanted him to get kicked out of school. I needed something to convince Amari to do more than lecture him about fighting, but also not get me expelled. This—” he gestured to his bruises. “This is nothing.”

A number of emotions flitted through Gabriel’s unwavering glare.

The injuries were superficial; healed and gone in a few days. It took Jack a moment to rationalize Gabriel’s reaction. Writing off bruises, injuries, as nothing important, was a complicated subject given Gabriel’s family history. Jack frowned, unsure of how to explain himself in a way to erase the troubled look from Gabriel’s face.

“I don’t like it,” Gabriel said.

Jack offered him a weak smile and jokingly patted his arm. “It won't happen again.”

Gabriel seized Jack’s hand, twined their fingers, and stared out the side window. “I mean it.” Gabriel’s thumb rapidly slid back and forth over Jack’s. “Don’t ever put yourself in that position again.”

Overly aware of their joined hands, Jack studied the side of Gabriel’s stern profile. Warmth pooled in Jack's chest and spilled over into his cheeks. A small pep band marched around his heart with a brassy fanfare. Gabriel’s concern, and quiet affection, left Jack elated and awed. He smiled at their hands. After a handful of kisses and even a breathless moment of having Gabriel pressing against him, hard and wanting, somehow the connection between their hands stuck Jack as more intimate.

“I’m sorry,” Jack whispered and squeezed Gabriel’s hand.

* * *

“I’m gay,” Jack announced as he stood in front of the Spartan team, arms folded behind his back in a parade rest to keep himself from shifting nervously as, one by one, the eyes of his peers turned to him. It didn’t stop his heart from leaping into his throat, nor did it dull the spike of adrenaline urging him to flee.

“I know you’ve heard it around school,” he continued, “and I’m tired of getting the looks. So yeah, I’m gay. Please don’t try to hook me up with your brother, friend, cousin, or whatever. I’m not interested.”

Even though Gabriel had imposed a ‘no kissing’ rule, deterring the notion of them being a thing, Jack’s affection remained unfairly with him. It didn’t help that Gabriel tested the rule, flirting with looks, small touches, and even one heart-stopping moment where he slid by Jack in the hall, grinning like a wolf, wearing nothing but a towel.

Being deliberately tempted made Jack all the more stubborn to heed to the rule.

He aimed his focus on fixing the broken pieces of himself. Gabriel had the annoying habit of being right about a lot of things. Jack needed to confront his problems head on. Accepting himself for who he was, what he liked, was a step in the right direction. It wasn’t easy. His stomach felt like a pit of acid, burbling up his throat until he swallowed it back down.

He glanced toward Angela. She’d recently joined their table again, but their friendship remained strained. Jack had yet to apologize to Vincent. It made him sick to acknowledge how he’d tried to use Vincent. In turn, he hadn’t said anything to Angela for similar reasons, but he missed her companionship. Gabriel was a good friend, in his own way, but he swung from hot and cold so fast it gave Jack whiplash.

Angela spared him a brief smile and Jack returned it, hoping they could make amends.

Jack took in the rest of the team. The hockey players were absent, due to a conflicting schedule, but everyone else was present. His attention caught on Lena’s sad smile and he made a mental note to talk to her after practice. If not a talk, then a hug, because he hadn’t forgotten the way she had gazed at Emily, or the morose way she had acted the week afterward. If she struggled with anything similar to his own situation, something as simple as a hug and a concerned question might do wonders for her.

Jack drew in a deep breath and straightened his drooping posture. “This will be the last practice before Christmas Break. Let’s make it a good one.”

* * *

“Jaaack.”

In the Reyes’ household, yelling across the house for another person was not considered poor manners. Instead, if the person being called didn’t immediately respond, _that_ was rude. Hence, beckoned by Sombra’s holler, Jack ambled out of the kitchen with a mouthful of last night’s leftovers.

Sombra walked past him while gesturing to the front door. Just beyond the threshold, Angela gave a sheepish wave.

“Hey Jack,” she greeted, her words as weak as her smile. She held out a box wrapped in gold and silver, dangling with spiraling scarlet ribbons. “I went to your house.” She bit her lip and looked away. “Why didn’t you tell me you were kicked out?”

Jack leaned a shoulder against the door frame and shrugged with the other. “We weren’t talking.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, holding the gift a little higher as a peace offering.

“You had every right to be mad.” Jack gingerly took the present and picked at the curling ribbons. “You only wanted to help and I blew the whole thing up.”

“Vincent’s not mad, just so you know.”

The few texts Vincent had sent him over the weeks, all without a reply, had suggested as much. He was too nice and deserved someone less messed up. Jack chewed over his lower lip, hating the topic, but knew he had to get the truth out if he hoped to rebuild his friendship with Angela. “I’ll talk to him in my own time, but I don’t want to date him.”

Angela chuckled and dropped her eyes. “I’ve started to guess as much.”

A beat of silence passed and the chill of December crept into the house. Angela wrapped her arms around her torso and shifted her weight. “I talked to Genji while I was there. He has no idea what happened, but he said that Gabriel got into a fight with your dad?”

Wow, Jack thought with a crooked smile, there was a lot he had not yet explained to Angela. “It’s kinda a long story.”

“Maybe we can get together after Christmas and you can tell me?”

He smiled down at the gift. “I’d like that.”

As she turned to walk back to her car, Jack stepped onto the porch. His brows pushed together with worry as he asked, “Did you talk to my mom?”

After losing Ben, his mother couldn’t deal with a lot of stress. He could only imagine the worst happening after her only child left so abruptly. Jack doubted his father bothered explaining any of it. Emotional problems were not things the Morrisons handled well.

“A little. She…” Angela went quiet and studied her shoes. “When are you going home?”

The lack of explanation said more than words. Jack’s heart sank and he longed for home. He wanted to sit at the kitchen table and let his mother ruffle his hair and make him lunch, play whatever role she needed him to fill to bring peace to her broken world. He coughed to clear the sharp lump in his throat. “My dad told me to not come back until ‘this phase’ passed.”

There were gaps in Jack’s story and Angela thoughtfully searched his face for what he wasn't telling her. In the end, she sighed and peered into the living room beyond Jack. “So,” she playfully toned, “you’re staying with Gabriel?”

Jack relaxed. “Crazy, right?”

“I’m still having a hard time believing it. Is he here?”

“No, the hockey team has an away game. He’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Anyway,” Angela said while rubbing her arms to keep warm. “I’m going to go. I’ll see you after Christmas?”

He smiled, slowly, feeling as if he’d just regained a missing part of himself. “See you then.”

* * *

Later that night, Jack found himself shushed and shamed out of the living room for his ringing phone having interrupted Mrs. Reyes’s pre-recorded soaps. Hd didn’t mind. They refused to turn on the subtitles for him and he could only translate a handful of words before resorting to making up his own dialogue. He preferred the nights when Gabriel was there. Gabriel liked to lean over and whisper in his ear about what was going on in the show, always lingering there with lips a hair’s breath away from making contact, his tone low, rumbling, and _suggestive_.

A glance at the phone screen showed Gabriel’s name and Jack’s brows inched upward. Gabriel preferred to text, not call, and the change made Jack’s throat tight as he answered. “Gabe?”

_”Hey, Jack. How’s everything?”_

The question spurred Jack toward the back door as he recalled the instructions he’d been given that morning after dropping Gabriel off to catch the team bus to the away game. He jiggled the door lock to ensure it was latched, then headed toward the front door. “The doors are locked.”

_”How’s mi mamá?”_

Jack paused in the hall, back tracked, and peeked into the living room. Both the Reyes women were still seated on the couch, their eyes glued to the tv. Jack eased away from the room before answering, “Fine. She’s watching her show with Sombra. How was your game?”

_”We won.”_

“Good job, Ballerina.”

A low chuckle emitted from the other end of the call and Jack’s stomach somersaulted in response.

_”Thanks, Blue.”_

A sensual tone, playful and fond, curled around the nickname. Jack’s heart skipped a beat. There were a number of names Gabriel threw out, depending on the circumstances, but ‘Blue’ was the rarest of them. Jack stood in the hall, his eyes roaming unseeing over the photographs lining the walls as he tried to decipher the reason behind the unusual slip of tongue.

_”Do me a favor?”_

“Of course.”

_”Go to my room.”_

Jack did, the phone pressed tight to his ear to pick up on every bit of the peculiar cadence in Gabriel’s words. Upstairs, he looked around the cluttered room and rubbed at the back of his neck. “Okay?”

_”Lock the door.”_

His heart nervously paced as his fingers found the cheap latch and fumbled to set the hook into the metal eye. It gave him privacy for whatever favor needed done. Only one scenario came to mind involving a teenage boy behind a locked bedroom door. Jack vehemently ignored it. “Alright…”

A shuffling sounded over the phone, followed by a pleased hum. Jack pulled at his bottom lip as his mind added matching images to the noises. Gabriel exhaled, slow and comfortable, as if he had sprawled out on a bed.

_”What are you wearing?”_

Gabriel was messing with him. Had to be. Jack chuckled, “My clothes.”

_”Alright. I’ll guess — probably the white shirt and the blue bottoms?”_

“They’re comfy,” Jack said while checking behind the closet door, half expecting to find a grinning Gabriel there.

_”Mhm — take off the shirt.”_

“W-what?” Jack froze. “Where are you?”

_”I’m alone in my room at the motel; team went out to dinner.”_

“Why aren’t you with them?”

_”I got clocked pretty good during the game — said I wasn’t feeling good, stayed behind and, heh, there are benefits to rooming with Jesse.”_

Sighing, Jack sat down on the bed. “Are you high?”

_”I feel more tipsy than high.”_

“Gabe — you can get kicked off the team for that,” Jack said, but Gabriel only chuckled in response.

_”If they try to kick me off the team for this, they’ll have to question Coach for whatever the hell he gave me for the pain ‘cause that was not ibuprofen.”_

“Gabe…”

_”Yeah, yeah — but right now I feel real good and I wanted to call you.”_

Although disappointed in Gabriel’s actions, Jack’s heart fluttered with hopeless delight. He smiled and rubbed at his cheek in an attempt to erase the reaction, glad no one was there to witness the dopey smile.

_“I’ve been thinking about you.”_

Jack exhaled sharply, the barest of laughs in the rush of air escaping him. A prickling sensation, starting in his scalp, trickled down his neck and spine. His heel bounced against the floor, mimicking the rapid beat of his heart as it throbbed in his ears. He didn’t know how to respond to the words, parroting them, while true, didn’t seem appropriate. They weren’t a thing and Gabriel, again, was not in the right state of mind.

_”I’ve been thinking about the first night you stayed over.”_

Heat coiled in Jack’s gut and he felt ashamed of how he was reacting to the playful, deep timbres of Gabriel’s voice. Guilty, but he still pressed the phone closer to his ear, wanting to hear every bit of it as he began chewing on the end of his thumb.

“Yeah?” His voice was heavy and thick before panic clutched at his heart. “Y-you should get some rest.”

_”I am. I’m lying down, relaxing, what about you? What are you doing, Jack?”_

“Sitting,” he whispered.

_”On the bed?”_

Jack began to nod then realized he had to vocalize it, “Y-yeah.”

_”Good.”_

The pleased note in Gabriel’s reply again made Jack’s heart jig against his ribs.

_”Take off your shirt.”_

Jack fingered the thin cotton hem while eying the locked door. “I don’t — I don’t know.”

_”Want me to take mine off first?”_

It took an inordinate amount of time for Jack to collect enough breath and courage to form his lips around a reply. “I — yes.”

The noise through the phone easily played into the images in Jack’s imagination. As if he was there, he watched the slow reveal of skin, starting with Gabriel’s flat abs, the line of his rib cage as his arms raised above his head, pulling the shirt further up his chest to expose his pecs; the dark nubs of his nipples already hard, begging for Jack to close his mouth over one and flick his tongue against the firm bud.

_”Do you remember what I look like without my shirt?”_

“Yes,” Jack said, his face burning at the brief memory of Gabriel sliding past him in only a towel.

_”You like?”_

His breath escaped him, stuttering out and ending with a quiet ‘ _fuck_ ’. His body burned on the inside and his hammering pulse had reached his groin. Overwhelmed, Jack considered hanging up. Instead his fingers passed over his lips, muffling his breathless response, “I do.”

_”Your turn.”_

Jack drew in one slow breath after another, hesitating. He dropped the phone and yanked his shirt off before he lost his nerve. He tossed it to the floor and cradled the phone back to his ear. “It’s — It’s off.”

_”Lie down.”_

He did, nerves on fire and hyper aware of the feel of the blanket beneath him and the smell of Gabriel on the pillow.

_”That scar on your chest…”_

Jack’s fingers immediately found the mark and traced along the edges.

_”How far does it go down?”_

“From just below my collar bone,” Jack said while closing his eyes, his fingers following the path as he imagined Gabriel doing the same. “Across my pec.” He brushed a thumb over his nipple in passing and drew in a quick breath as goosebumps spread across his shoulders. “It stops maybe one or two ribs after that.”

Jack settled his hand on his stomach, fingertips touching the hem of his pajama bottoms as he listened to Gabriel’s heavy breathing. There something more, something _wet_ to the sounds, like Gabriel had licked his lips or drew his lower lip through his teeth.

_”I’ve been thinking about how you looked under me, about the sound you made when I—”_

Gabriel relaxed into a soft moan and Jack dug his fingernails into his lower abdomen. He pressed the phone hard against his ear as if it would help to better hear the way Gabriel slowly drew in another breath. It came out more harsh, quick, and Jack flashed on the image of Gabriel’s hand stroking in tandem to the breaths.

His eyes shot open. “Are you — are you — “

_”I want to hear those sounds again.”_

“Gabe,” Jack pleaded. Every nerve in his body arced with a lust fueled electricity. His resistors melted against the sounds in his ear, allowing more sinful images to flood into in his thoughts. He slipped a hand under his waist band only to shyly withdraw it.

_”Want me to send you a picture?”_

“Of w-what?”

Laughter, dark and silky, emitted from the phone.

_”Of what I’m holding.”_

“Oh god—”

_”Or maybe a video?”_

Jack whined with a mix of distress and want. He shouldn’t encourage this. Gabriel wasn’t in the right state of mind and might regret it once sober. Jack picked at the elastic band of his briefs. “What happened to — to the no kissing rule?”

_”We’re not kissing, are we?”_

“You know what I mean.”

_”No one said you had to follow the rule, Boyscout.”_

“You are just — you — _you_ —”

_”Do you want a picture — or a video?”_

“I — _fuck_.” Imagining something like _that_ on his phone, to visit any time he wanted, was too much. As someone who had only glimpsed at porn before closing it in shame, he’d probably delete the picture, or video, before being brave enough to watch it. Jack shook his head. “ I’d rather see it in person.”

_”What else do you want?”_

Jack chewed over his lip, a dozen desires flitting through his mind, but his tongue too thick and clumsy to form the syllables.

_”Tell me… what you would have wanted to do, that day in bed, if I hadn’t stopped.”_

“I — I can’t.”

_”Try.”_

Slowly he exhaled, “I wanted to touch you.”

_”How?”_

“With my hands, I wanted to—” His hand skated over his clothed bulge; painfully aroused. A surge of heated adrenaline sent the blasphemous thoughts spilling outward. “I wanted to feel how hard you were — how big you are. I wanted to curl my fingers around you, stroke you, and rub my thumb over—”

His erection pulsed as — _finally_ — he gripped himself while he continued to paint the lewd image in his head. He stroked himself, once, slowly, before brushing his thumb through the pre-cum beading on the tip. Jack’s lips parted and his mouth watered. “I wanted to know what you feel like in my mouth, how you’d taste on my tongue. I wanted to know what it would be like to slide you past my lips and how far I could go down on you.”

Gabriel no longer spoke, but Jack could hear him, the tell-tale huffs and pants as he used the imagery of Jack’s words to pleasure himself. Jack stroked himself to the sounds, enjoying the harsh exhales and the noisy intake of breath through the nose. The deep rumbling _mmm_ was his favorite because it made his head hazy and sent heated sparks shooting along his nerves like falling stars.

Jack slid his messy fingers into his mouth, trying to capture the full experience of what it might be like to have Gabriel, hard and leaking, in his mouth. His tongue curled around the strange taste and he moaned. Gabriel responded with a wordless approval, but it wasn’t enough.

“I wish you were here,” Jack whispered.

_”I can’t stop thinking about you.”_

“You’re just high—”

_”I want to hear you. Let me hear you. Please.”_

The key of desperation in Gabriel’s tone sent Jack’s hand plunging back into his briefs, gripping at the base of his shaft to stave off the resounding need within him. He laid there, eyes closed, the phone pressed so hard to his ear it was like Gabriel was there, panting against the flushed skin of his neck. He pictured Gabriel naked on the hotel bed, the sheets damp and twisted around his gorgeous body, his hand furiously pumping his length, biting his lip, hips thrusting, his chest arching and—

_”Jack.”_

—moaning his name.

“Fuck,” Jack swore, his own hand matching the carnal image in his head, his breaths deepening, heavy and harsh.

He’d been good for so long, not touching himself to the fantasies teasing him since the first time Gabriel’s lips had brushed against his own. He had pushed it away, denied it and shamed himself over it. Now he had permission and _encouragement_ to act on the daydreams.

Emotion tightened in his chest, contrasting against the heat in his loins. The feeling of acceptance — that it was okay for him to feel these things, that he wanted these things — struck him soul deep. It echoed the soaring sensation his heart felt when Gabriel had taken his hand, ran his thumb over his knuckles.

Gabriel groaned in his ear and Jack bit his lip against the sound escaping him in return. He could hear the slapping of flesh through the phone, or maybe it was his own frantic strokes. It didn’t matter. Nothing else mattered aside from the husky voice in his ear and the touch of his hand.

_”Oh yeah — Jack —”_

His name pitched higher and higher until Gabriel came with a hoarse, shaky groan.

The wonderful sound escaping from Gabriel’s lips brought Jack along for the ride, and he spilled himself, in hot spurts, into his cupped hand. Jack released the breath caught in his chest. “Oh fuck…”

He stretched out along the sheets, drinking in the euphoria like a cat basking in the sun.

_”Still there?”_

Jack readjusted the phone. “Mhm.”

_”Stay with me until Jesse gets back?”_

Warmth puddled around Jack’s heart, “Of course.”

He listened to Gabriel moving around — cleaning up — and reluctantly did the same. He used his discarded shirt to clean the majority of the mess before ducking out to use the small, upstair bathroom.

_”That was fun.”_

A glance in the mirror revealed the brilliant blush Jack felt flooding into his face. A weakness trembled in his knees and he sat on the edge of the tub as he took stock of what they had done. A sting of shame barbed its way into his good feeling, a cultivated reaction from his upbringing, and he rubbed at the back of his neck. Alone in the bathroom, Jack found it hard to wash away the slimy feeling attempting to coat over his heart. He pressed the phone to his ear and closed his eyes.

“I’ve never done anything like that before,” he whispered.

_”I think I can give you a lot of firsts.”_

Jack softly chuckled and tucked his chin in toward his chest. He envied Gabriel’s confidence, wished he could curl up next to him and let it blanket over him for a time. The gentle, low voice in his ear was all he had to help ward against the self hate and the mortifying embarrassment he was beginning to feel toward the things he'd said while caught up in the moment. His fingers tightened on the phone while his insides twisted, attempting to wring out the last bits of serotonin from his system. Jack focused on Gabriel's voice. His words. Jack chewed on his bottom lip as he considered their meaning. A dig at his virginity as much as it was a promise to amend it. While Jack could stumble his way through a hand job, even a blow job, he’d never been brave enough to use the internet to broaden his horizons and, consequently, tempt his father’s wrath. Health class shyly touched at sex between a man and woman, and how to check for cancerous lumps in his testicles, but beyond those things, Jack only had a general idea of what else they could do together.

“Have you ever — with a guy?”

The long pause from the other end of the line worsened the knot insecurity closing inside of his chest.

_”I’ve kissed guys, but you’re the first one I’d like to do more with.”_

The tension eased, a little, and Jack exhaled a nervous chuckle. The captain of the hockey team wanted him. Gabriel, one of the most handsome guys in school, wanted him. Already sitting, Jack gripped the edge of the tub and let it sink in. A dopey grin slowly stretched across his face. “Just so we’re clear, you broke the rule, not me.”

_”What? I didn’t kiss you.”_

“So what do you call this?”

_”I just called to check on my family, what do you call it?”_

“I’d say someone was horny and got into Jesse’s stash.”

_”I’ll have you know that I’m helping him by drinking it first.”_

“How valiant of you.”

_”I’m amazing.”_

“Humble too.”

_”My best quality.”_

Jack passed a hand over his smile. “When you get back tomorrow, want to do something — together?”

_”Are you asking me out?”_

Breathe. In. Out. Jack bit down on his thumb as his mind raced head-long into a brick wall. A clawed hand closed around his throat, shortening his breaths and strangling his words. Just because they had fooled around — because Gabriel was borderline high or drunk — didn’t mean Gabriel wanted to be _official_. What went on behind locked doors did not carry over to the rest of life. Gabriel might not even want anyone to know what he’d just done with a _guy_.

_Fuck._

His heart wouldn’t stop slamming against his ribs, making him feel faint. Jack wished he could suck back in the words. Chew them up and swallow it all back down. He’d gone and made things awkward. Overstepped the boundaries. He was a fucking idiot.

_”Jack?”_

“Forget it.”

_”No. We should — we should talk about that…”_

A knife twisted through Jack’s chest. He didn’t want to talk about it; the subtext was clear.

A crash from elsewhere in the house startled Jack out of his festering sorrow. He eased open the bathroom door and listened. An angry flood of Spanish cut through the quiet. A man’s voice. It sounded too real to be mistaken for the tv. Jack edged toward the stairs.

_”Listen, Jack…”_

“Shut up.”

_”I’m serious.”_

“So am I — I think someone is here.”

The floorboards creaked as Jack tip-toed down the stairs. He could hear it more clearly, coming from the kitchen. The door opened next to Jack and he jumped back as Sombra stepped into the hall from her bedroom, pulling her headset off as she, too, looked toward the kitchen with concern.

“Mamá?” Sombra called out.

The answering male voice, growling with warning, made Sombra’s eyes widen. She shoved past Jack and rushed into the kitchen. The batwing doors separating the rooms swung violently. Jack stared at them as a cold spot solidified in his gut.

_”Jack? What’s going on?”_

Having entirely forgotten about the call, Jack firmed the phone back against his ear. “I think your dad is here.”

_”What? Jack? Jack! Listen to me—”_

Steeling his nerves, Jack caught one of the swinging doors and pushed it aside. A man stood near the stove. Similar to Gabriel, but bigger, the hair blacker and longer. The man’s face was sharp, harsh, and it pained Jack to see so much of Gabriel in the man’s snarling expression. But this man made Jack’s skin crawl. A stale, sour stench permeated the air around him. He stood, looming over Mrs. Reyes who lay sprawled on the floor. She wasn’t moving. Sombra was crouched next to her, screaming up at her father.

Jack gripped the door as he processed the scene.

It continued to play out in slow motion. Sombra grabbed a glass from the counter and flung it at her father. It shattered against the cabinets, spraying the shards across the floor and ringing in Jack's ears. The man teetered as he pushed from the counter and snatched at Sombra's arm.

Jack pushed into the kitchen, baring his teeth as he snarled, “Get away from them!”

Growing up on rural lands, Jack had met his fair share of wildlife. Feral dogs. Coyotes. Once a badger had chased him off its mound. He’d surprised a black bear grazing on a patch of raspberry bushes, but a good deal of shouting and posturing had sent it running. The only time Jack had felt in danger had been upon meeting a wolf. He’d yelled at it, waved his arms, but the wolf had merely lowered its head and regarded him with impassive, tawny gold eyes. Unease had trickled down Jack’s spine as he wondered about the presence of the rest of the pack.

Mr. Reyes reminded him of that wolf; he would not be scared off.

He stepped toward Jack.

Jack ran.

The stairs thundered under Jack’s feet. He shut and locked the door to Gabriel’s room before he heard an echoing rumble from the stairs. Jack scrambled for his pack and upended it on the bed. He shoved the clothes aside until he found the holstered pistol. It had been an impulsive decision to pack it. Gabriel would have been livid if he’d known.

Jack curled his fingers around the black matte grip and pulled the pistol free.

The door knob turned and when the door refused to open, Mr. Reyes slammed his shoulder against it. A second bodily shove sent the cheap hook lock flying across the room.

The pistol safety clicked as Jack thumbed it off.

:::  
_We too young and heads too strong  
To bear the weight of these lovers eyes_  
:::


	15. Happier - Marshmello

:::  
_Lately, I've been, I've been thinking  
I want you to be happier, I want you to be happier_  
:::

Streaks of red and blue danced over the crusted snow like a child’s night light brightening the walls of a dark room, attempting to beat back the worst of the unfolding nightmare. Handcuffed in the back of a police cruiser, Jack sat, shirtless and barefoot, with his forehead pressed against the side window, striving to keep tabs on everyone's movements.

Three police officers stood conversing on the porch of the Reyes house. They split apart as the EMTs rolled Mrs. Reyes out on a gurney. Sombra hovered alongside them, her panicked expression deepened by the flashing lights. Jack twisted around and tracked their progress through the back window fogged with condensation. They loaded into the ambulance, shut the doors, and with a quick _whoop-whoop_ of sirens, they left.

Officer Reinhardt, the tallest of the three policemen, broke away from the group. He worried his hat between his large hands as he approached the car, his face set with deep, hard lines. As he neared, Jack’s nerves vibrated. He sharply felt the bite of the metal cuffs around his wrists, the worn faux-leather beneath him, the small rocks embedded in the mat under his bare feet. His mind spun wildly without words while his heart cowered from the bad news carried in the slump of Reinhardt’s broad shoulders.

A rush of cold air from the opening door sent goosebumps down Jack’s arms. The car groaned as Reinhardt settled behind the wheel with a long sigh. Jack shimmed forward to peer through the tempered glass separating them.

“Is she going to be okay?” he asked.

Reinhardt smoothed his graying mane of blonde hair. “That is for the doctors to say.”

The spinning lights died and night crept over the street. Quiet again, nothing more for the neighbors to gawk at through twitching curtains.

“Jack Morrison, is it?” Reinhardt asked after checking in with dispatch.

A sour taste coated Jack’s tongue. “John Morrison.”

Reinhardt made a notation of the name before glancing back at him. “This is a delicate situation. It was fortunate Gabriel called me when he did.”

“Gabriel called you?”

Reinhardt nodded, slowly. He had a kind, expressive face despite the scar running over one light blue eye. Jack searched his grizzled face for more, hoping Gabriel had explained the whole situation, hoping that he didn’t have to live through this experience any further than a stern lecture in the backseat of a cruiser.

“It pains me to say, but this is not the first time I’ve come to this very house, on this very call. It is not the second, nor is it the third. I have been here — many times.”

Jack kicked at the back of the seat. “Then why was nothing ever done?”

Reinhardt’s expression steeled and Jack shrank back. He eyed Jack for a couple seconds before carefully setting his hat back over his hair and pulling away from the curb. “Our hands are tied.” Reinhardt had a soft, rumbling voice of an old lion. Patient despite Jack’s outburst. “If she does not press charges, there is nothing we can do.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“That is the law.”

“It’s a stupid law!”

“The law is made to protect _all_ parties involved.”

Turning toward the window, Jack pressed his temple against the cool glass. The streetlights, haloed by mist, passed by at steady intervals. No matter how many times he ran it through his head, he couldn’t understand why Mrs. Reyes never pressed charges. The abuse had gone on for years, escalating, and yet nothing had been done. Jack bit down on the frustrated cry building in his lungs.

As the anger unknotted from his chest, Jack looked toward the front. “What’s going to happen to me?”

While he had not shot anyone, Jack worried about the fact that the pistol had been loaded, ready to fire, and pointed very much at Mr. Reyes. His finger had touched against the finger guard, but hadn’t curled around the trigger. Belatedly, Jack was thankful that even though Mr. Reyes had been drunk, he recognized and responded appropriately to a gun barrel being pointed at him. Jack had herded him out the front door and onto the lawn.

The cops, arriving shortly afterward, had also acted appropriately to seeing someone holding a gun. Jack learned, real quick, what if felt like to have a gun — three of them — pointed at him. His heart had stumbled over itself, the air in his lungs had froze, and his ears had rung with the chorus of officers yelling orders at him. The flashing lights blinded him and for a long, terrifying moment, Jack had thought he was going to be shot down.

“Intimidation with a deadly weapon is a serious offense.”

“Isn’t there a law about protecting your home?”

“The Castle Doctrine, yes, but — technically — that home is his, not yours.”

“I did it to protect them — to protect myself!”

“That is different,” Reinhardt patiently replied. “But until we have the testimonies of the witnesses, we have to hold you on the charge. However, since you are a minor, things may play out differently.”

Ice slid through Jack’s veins. “You have to get hold of my parents.”

“Yes, we do.”

“What if — what if my parents want nothing to do with me?”

Reinhardt studied him through the medium of the rear view mirror. “You will be assigned a probation officer and they will petition the case. Most often these things are dismissed or dealt with informally, but with the seriousness of the charge, I cannot say for certain what will happen.”

Jack’s lips formed into a thin, grim line and he returned to staring out the window. At the beginning of the school year, his biggest worry had been expulsion. Faced with more serious consequences, even his all-consuming crush on Gabriel — being outed as gay and kicked out of his home — felt so insignificant in comparison. A bleak future stretched out ahead of him and Jack wished he could retreat back to the blissful ignorance of youth.

* * *

They gave him a shirt; a maroon t-shirt with a hole in the collar and gold lettering advertising a local bar. It fit his shoulders, but ballooned around his hips. The neon orange flip-flops they’d loaned him slapped against the floor as they lead him through the detainment process. Jack hardly registered it; the last of his composure channeling into not breaking down in front of the whole station.

As a minor, he was kept separate from the men in holding. Jack sat on the stiff bed, knees drawn up to his chest, and his arms wrapped tightly around his legs. Each step passing outside his cell echoed sharply in his ears. Down the hall detained men coughed, shouted, and every once in a while one particular lush would bang on the bars. The fluorescent lights endlessly buzzed in the quieter moments.

Reinhardt stopped by after his shift and explained, in a gentle tone, that because of the holidays, most of the office workers were gone, so they didn’t have anyone to finish processing the papers. There also wasn’t a judge immediately available for a hearing. He said he’d keep trying to contact someone to hasten the situation while also promising to get a hold of Jack’s parents. With any luck, Jack would be released into his parent’s custody by tomorrow.

Not as optimistic as Reinhardt, Jack resigned to be there all weekend, maybe longer, and curled further into himself.

* * *

No one came for Jack until late Sunday afternoon. A dour faced officer opened the door and gestured with the keys for Jack to come forward. “Come on, Morrison. Your father is here for you.”

With a stiff neck, Jack lifted his head to stare at the uniformed man with dry, itchy eyes. The words trickled through the tumblers of his thoughts, catching and clogging the gears. The initial daze of disbelief quickly sank into bone chilling dismay. His arms and legs felt like lead weights as he slowly unfolded from the bed and set his flip-flopped feet on the hard floor.

“Move it, Morrison.”

While an officer processed his papers and explained something about returning in a couple of days for a detention hearing before a judge, Jack stood, shoulders hunched, staring wide-eyed at his father waiting in the hall. He was dressed in his Sunday best, because of course he’d go to church before being troubled to fetch his son.

Jack wanted to go back to his cell.

Papers were shoved into his hands and Jack shuffled toward his father after returning the obnoxious flip flops. The hard set to his father's face reached into Jack's memories with a single, barbed hook, drawing forth the small, office room in third grade and the weight of his father’s disappointment. Jack's gaze settled on his father’s polished dress shoes. He meticulously folded his papers with shaky hands as bile collected in the back of his throat.

The chill of the shoveled sidewalk against the bare soles of his feet distracted him for a time.

In the truck, the radio presented them with cheerful, Christmas songs. It clashed with the gloom clouding Jack’s thoughts. He didn’t want to talk, but the longer his father went without speaking, the more terrified he felt, as if a fuse had been light and was slowly closing in on the powder keg. Jack picked at the hem of his shirt while staring out the window. The world passed by in a blur of snow-capped lawns. A single square of blue stood out against the white-washed background. A sign for the hospital.

Jack shot upright and his head whipped around to double-check their whereabouts. “Take me to the hospital.”

“Excuse me?”

Jack winced. “Please?”

“We need to talk.”

“Then do it on the way to the hospital.” Jack snapped his hand at the passing side street.

In the quiet, Jack felt the edge of his father’s reproachful look. His father never tolerated attitude, not even when Jack had been a kid and rightfully upset about losing a favorite toy.

The turn to the hospital passed and Jack grit his teeth. He grabbed the door handle and, with each passing second, his heart beat ramped higher and higher. A ‘talk’ meant shutting his mouth and ducking his head while being lectured. It meant suffering in silence, screaming on the inside, and warring against thoughts of taking his own life just to escape it. Jack shook his head, desperate to stop the rising tide of helplessness. He couldn’t go back. Not to that.

Blood rang in his ears as he cracked open the door, leaned out, but found himself yoked by the seatbelt he’d forgotten to unlatch.

“John!” His father jerked the wheel over while slamming on the brakes. The truck slid several feet before coming to a crooked stop next to the curb. Jack fumbled with his seatbelt as a hand clamped over his shoulder. “Stop. Just — listen.”

“No!” Jack knocked off the hand. “I don’t—”

“I want you to come home.”

It was the pain behind the words that made Jack freeze while his heart raced on like a frightened rabbit, zig-zagging left and right before also coming to an abrupt halt. Jack slowly turned. His father’s gaze remained forward, his expression hard and his hands dutifully at ten and two. Jack looked at the slick streets ahead of them, the turn to the hospital behind them, then back to his tense father.

A terrible rendition of ‘Jingle Bells’ caroled them for two full verses before his father clicked off the radio. It was another long moment before he spoke. “Christmas will be here soon and it’d mean a lot to your mother if you came home.”

Jack’s stomach flip-flopped as he heard what his father wasn’t saying, what he’d also heard in Angela’s lacking reply. His mother wasn’t doing well. _That’s not fair_. His fingers loosened and fell away from the door handle. He missed home; the quiet of the fields, his own room, and Soldier’s unconditional love. Of course he missed his mother, but the conditions of his return were non-negotiable. Going back to the farm meant conforming to the role his father wanted, the role his mother needed.

“What about you?” Jack asked.

The steering wheel softly squeaked under John’s clenching hands. Feelings were not something they discussed. Ever. It didn’t surprise Jack to see his father struggling over the words. “I want you to come home.”

“I’m still going to be gay,” Jack rushed out before his teeth could snap close. Fear squeezed the last bits of air from his lungs. To say it, out loud — _to his father_ — dug vicious fingers into his heart.

John regarded Jack with fleeting, side glances. “I won’t pretend to understand that but we — _I_ — still want you to come home.”

It wasn’t acceptance, but it was a step in the right direction. Jack studied his father’s profile for a long moment, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Behind his wariness, a hope stirred, because despite the years of hardship, Jack loved his father.

“I’ll think about it,” Jack mumbled and settled his hands into his lap. “After we go to the hospital.”

* * *

“I need to find a Mrs. Reyes,” Jack said as he stepped up to the nurses’ station. Disheveled, barefoot, and still wearing the pair of pajama bottoms he’d put on Friday night, Jack wilted under the skeptical look over he got in return. He desperately wanted to shower and cleanse himself of the whole experience.

The tired nurse again looked him over, this time with an arched brow. “Are you family?”

His heart sank. “Does that really matter?”

“Jack!”

Recognizing the voice, Jack spun around just as Gabriel caught him by the shoulders and pulled him into a one-armed hug. Jack melted into the embrace, burying his face into Gabriel’s shoulder. The stress from the eventful weekend faded into the background and Jack tightened his arms around Gabriel as warm bubbles burst inside his chest.

As they parted, Jack noticed the arm sling Gabriel wore along with the peppering of bruises across his face. Jack’s eyes widened. “What happened to you?”

“I told you,” Gabriel said, keeping Jack close with his good arm. “I took a bad hit at the game. Knocked my helmet clean off, dislocated my shoulder — oh don’t look at me like that, I’m fine.”

The dismissal of the injuries wasn’t anything new, and Jack would have scolded Gabriel with a look if he had the space, or a few seconds before his heart leaped into his throat when Gabriel cupped the back of his head and pulled him close. Jack’s nerves betrayed him, flicking his gaze toward where his father lingered near the gift store.

Gabriel, sharp as a razor, caught and followed the wayward glance, and tensed up at the sight of John Morrison. “What’s he doing here?”

“I’ll tell you later.” Jack pressed into Gabriel’s lingering touch. “How’s your mom?”

The glare softened, but it took a few seconds before Gabriel shifted his gaze to Jack. Once he did, he smiled and carded his fingers through Jack’s hair with slow, fond strokes. “She’s fine — has a concussion, some cuts and bruises, but the doctor said she can go home today.”

Relief washed over Jack, pushing out the last of his worries with one, long exhale. The last time he’d seen Mrs. Reyes, she had laid unconscious on the kitchen floor. Jack grimaced. “I’m sorry, Gabe. I swear I locked the doors—”

“Shh.” Gabriel pressed his forehead to Jack’s. “If you hadn’t been there, who knows what might have happened.”

Jack’s lids drooped as he soaked in the physical attention.

“Actually it makes me a little mad.” Gabriel chuckled while his fingers flexed against the back of Jack’s neck. “She’s finally pressing charges, ‘cause of you. Reinhardt told her what was going on and it got her all fired up and — it’s not fair. She never did it for me, or for Sombra, but for some reason she’s finally doing something because of—”

Gabriel’s lips thinned and he slowly exhaled through his nose. “I’m glad you were there, Jack.”

Jack bowed his head, wishing he had been quicker to act. If he hadn’t been so thoroughly distracted, maybe no one would have gotten hurt.

Gabriel slid a thumb along the underside of Jack’s jaw and brought his gaze back up. “Can I kiss you?”

A shot of elation and terror forked through Jack and his heart faltered over several beats. His father stood just down the hall and the nurses were low-key staring at them. Heat pooled in Jack’s face as he met Gabriel’s dark, golden eyes. Words failing, Jack swallowed the lump in his throat and managed a small nod.

In front of God and everyone, Gabriel kissed him without an ounce of hesitation. Jack suspected the kiss might have had something to do with his father being present, but found he didn’t care all that much once those lips were against his. The hospital ceased to matter. Gabriel’s lips were soft, contrasting against the sandpaper-like scratch of his coarse stubble. Jack leaned into it. The warmth and low hum of bliss a gentle purr in his soul. _This_ is what he wanted in life. Someone to love, fitting so perfectly into his heart. Someone he could kiss without feeling ashamed.

Gabriel broke the kiss and smiled when Jack chased after it.

“Come on,” Gabriel said, his hand sliding down from Jack’s neck to take his hand. “My mom will be happy to see you.”

Gabriel stepped away but Jack remained rooted. Their joined hands raised up, forming a fragile bridge between Jack’s sinking remorse and Gabriel’s growing confusion. Jack glanced back at his waiting father. A stone settled over his heart. “Maybe I can come over to dinner sometime instead?”

Their hands dipped toward the floor as Gabriel’s fingers loosened. The smile faded from Gabriel’s face as he, too, glanced toward Jack’s father. His brows slowly pinched together in a painfully familiar scowl. “What do you mean?”

“I’m going back home.”

The bridge between them broke. Gabriel retracted his hand to rub at his deepening frown. Jack curled his fingers into his empty palm. It cut to watch Gabriel turn aside, severing eye contact. Jack’s heart threw itself against his ribs, vying to close the growing distance.

“It’s just that—”

Gabriel walked off while growling, “I need to get back to my mom.”

Jack took a half step after him but stopped when he noticed all the eyes watching him. He tucked tail and skirted back to his father. He’d send a text later, after Gabriel’s mood settled. Jack would explain the situation and they’d talk it over. It’d be fine.

* * *

“You love Christmas, why are you so glum?”

Jack lifted his eyes from his phone to regard Angela over the table set with their peppermint shakes. He rubbed at his brow, as if the motion would erase the tell-tale crease of his brooding thoughts. The mall around them buzzed with after Christmas shoppers returning unwanted gifts or set on getting the best after holiday deals.

It was his last day of freedom before he had to abide by the house arrest order. The Judge had been lenient. No charges were being filed against Jack, at least not in regard to his actions toward Mr. Reyes, but he still had to owe up to being in possession of a firearm while being underaged. His father had been with him in court, claiming ownership of the guns and promising to take them all away and lock them up (he had) and the Judge allowed it, sentencing Jack with a stern lecture and several hours of community service.

Christmas came and went in such a blur Jack didn’t have time to enjoy it. No decorations, no tree trimming. There were no trips through town with his mother to enjoy the feverish glow of colored lights on freshly fallen snow. The only thing Jack had done in the holiday spirit was bake with his mother. Most of it went to the church, but he’d stashed some aside to share with the team after Christmas Break.

Home felt strange, as if everything had been rearranged but he was the only one noticing it. It felt like the wrong house. The wrong family. He didn’t fit there anymore. And he couldn’t stop thinking about Gabriel. The few texts he'd sent Gabriel over the last week, explaining the situation with his mother, had gone unanswered. Phones calls rang until rolling into voicemail. "Call me back?" Jack had said after the beep, but the silence continued. Yesterday Jack had scraped together the courage to text ‘ _Merry Christmas_ ’, but had yet to get a response.

Every time he looked at his phone, the lack of new messages sucked the joy out of him.

“Sorry.” He forced a smile and set his phone down. “How was your Christmas?”

“You’ve already asked me that.”

“Oh.”

“In fact, you’ve asked me that three times.”

Jack grimaced. “Sorry — my head is elsewhere.”

“I can tell,” Angela said, glancing at where his fingers picked at his phone case.

Out of habit, Jack tried burying the inner turmoil and adopting a more socially pleasing demeanor. The fake smile he’d been sporting faltered and fell away. Ignoring the problem wouldn’t make it go away. It only steered him down a dark road of isolation and despair. Jack rubbed at the back of his neck. “I think I messed things up with Gabriel.”

She exhaled, exaggeratedly, and teased him with a half grin. “You two are ridiculous. Friends one day, enemies the next. What happened this time?”

Jack raised his shoulders in a helpless shrug. He had assumptions, none of them pleasant, and the silent treatment from Gabriel wasn’t helping to clear the air. Jack’s fingers trailed along the edge of his phone. “He’s ghosting me and—”

“So we go to him,” Angela stated with a firm tap of her cup against the table.

His eyes widened. “But—”

“It’s just like the beginning of the year, you can’t let him get away with being a prick.”

The issue ran deeper than the matter of hanging up flyers, but she had a point. While a face-to-face conversation with Gabriel terrified Jack, the constant shifting from hot to cold left him in an unwanted state of limbo. He deserved answers.

“Okay,” he conceded a slump of shoulders. “But help me pick out gifts first?”

The streetlights were on by the time Jack parked in front of Gabriel’s house. The snow sparkled with the colors of the lights hanging in the eaves. Jack admired the neon-esque scene from where he stood on the porch; the silence of the cold air so pronounced he could hear the subtle tinkling of shifting ice crystals.

He puffed out a warm breath, watching the mist twirl up into the night sky. Angela had wanted to tag along, but Jack had insisted on going alone. It’d be awkward enough without her. It was nerve-wracking just standing there, holding gifts and waiting for the door to open.

When it did, and Gabriel — wearing the arm sling and holding a small glass of dark red liquid — regarded him with a stoic expression, Jack’s confidence wavered. He almost shoved the gifts into Gabriel’s chest, bid him another ‘Merry Christmas’, and high tailed it to his truck. Instead he smiled, the gesture strained and not reaching his eyes. “Going to invite me in?”

Gabriel arched a brow at him, sipped at his drink, then was pushed aside as Sombra squeezed past.

“Jack.” She snatched the topmost present. “You come bearing gifts — are these all for me?”

His smile smoothed into something more natural. “One is.”

He followed Sombra inside, acutely aware of Gabriel’s narrowed eyes following him the whole way. Mrs. Reyes hugged him, kissed his cheek, and flustered when he handed her a gift. She held it to her chest while saying something rapidly, in Spanish, to Sombra. The two Reyes women grinned at him and he smiled back and shrugged. The gifts — a special non-stick pan for Mrs. Reyes and a new headset for Sombra — were his way of saying thanks for letting him stay.

Lastly, Jack turned and walked over to where Gabriel glowered from the hallway.

“These are for you,” Jack said while pushing the last two wrapped gifts to Gabriel’s chest. A new hooded sweater and tin of home-made chocolate chip cookies.

The scent of wine wafted between them as Gabriel ignored the parcels and instead sipped from the glass.

“We should talk.” Jack pressed harder, evenly meeting Gabriel’s steely glare. “In private.”

Gabriel snorted before tossing back the rest of his drink. He set the glass aside, accepted the gifts, and silently led the way up the stairs to his room. Jack closed the door and watched as Gabriel tossed the presents onto the bed before crossing to the far side of the room.

Jack folded his arms over his stomach. “What’s going on?”

“You tell me.”

Anticipating the worst didn’t fully prepare Jack for how much Gabriel’s cold demeanor would cut into him like a dull, rusted knife. The quarrels they had in the past had always been heated, had always involved Jack’s pride more than his heart, now everything reached deep inside of him, chilling him with fear and threatening to shatter the strength he’d cobbled together to face the problem wedging between them.

Jack latched on to the sting of anger burning in his chest. “One minute you’re the most thoughtful person I’ve ever met, the next you're a callous prick. One moment you’re calling me — _kissing_ me — then you — “ his voice broke and stuttered over the rest of the words, “— then you w-won’t even text me ‘Merry Christmas’.”

Gabriel’s narrowed gaze shifted to the ceiling.

Jack began shaking his head, the anger quickly giving way to self doubt. “And I don’t know how to feel about you. I mean, I know how I feel about you — I like you. A lot. But you’re neither here nor there. Sometimes I think you like me too — then other times I think you’re just fucking around with me. Messing with my head. And even now,” Jack said as he gestured at the distance between them. “It’s like you can’t even stand the sight of me.”

He paused to run his fingers along the underside of his eyes. “So I don’t know how to feel about it. I just — I just —”

Drawing in a slow, shaky breath held in the tears. Jack tilted his head back and blinked away the moisture. The last thing he wanted was to cry in front of Gabriel, but the emotions thrashed and rattled around inside of him like a runaway train barreling down the tracks. He was powerless to stop it.

“I need to know what this is between us because it’s tearing me apart.” Jack braved a glance at Gabriel, only to have his bleeding heart sink into his stomach at the sight of Gabriel’s sharp frown, looking as if he was just waiting for the situation to be done and over. “And it’s not fair. After everything we’ve been through, I feel like I deserve to know.”

Gabriel’s eyes briefly met Jack’s gaze before bouncing elsewhere. He tucked his chin in toward his chest and covered his face with one hand. His fingers pressed circles into his temple, several times, before he evenly stated, “I should have never kissed you.”

At first, it didn’t sink in. It didn’t make sense. It had no meaning. A fleeting smile flashed across Jack’s face as he searched for the punchline. It was a joke. Maybe. The world began to tremble and shift under Jack’s feet, he stared imploringly at Gabriel. “What?” 

Gabriel’s jaw set, firming behind his words.

The weight behind the words pressed Jack into the door and his knees threatened to give out. The rejection ripped the knife from his heart and gutted him. A pit opened in his heart and the hope he’d been masking under the gusto crawled inside. Gradually, a numbness crept over it all, blanking Jack’s expression.

“Right.” The words came out, but he felt like he was watching himself say it. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t happening. “Okay.” The thready quaver to Jack’s voice reflected the crumbling sensation happening in his chest. Autopilot kicked in and steered him into escape maneuvers. “I just need to get my stuff and I’ll go.”

After the incident at the hospital, he’d come back to the house to grab his phone and shoes. The rest he’d left with the idea of returning. He found his bag sitting next to the dresser, already packed. Gabriel had been expecting it. Jack’s vision blurred as he searched for anything left behind. The solace he’d once taken in that very room now twisting into a painful memory. His eyes caught on the slice of cerulean blue hanging in the closet. The sweater he’d loaned Gabriel, the one Gabriel seemed intent on forgetting to return, the one he’d worn to school to be a tease.

It didn’t belong amid all the dark colors crowding it.

Jack grabbed the sleeve, his throat tightening as his thumb brushed over the sewn rip. He stared at the small, neat stitches as he slowly fisted the material and yanked it off the hanger.

“Wait.” Gabriel caught the other sleeve, holding on tight despite Jack's attempt to jerk it free. “I should just let you go, just fucking sever this and let it die, but you’re right — I owe you more than that.”

“Don’t.” Relinquishing the sweater, Jack turned toward the door. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

Gabriel chased after him, one palm slamming against the door while his foot shoved against the bottom rail. “Listen, okay?”

“Are you giving me a choice?” Jack strained to pull open the door, only to have Gabriel push it shut. Jack glared at the wood grains, tracing them with his eyes until the lines intersected with the splintered wood along the jamb, where there had once been a lock.

“I’ve been thinking about all this and — I graduate in five months.” Gabriel paused, but Jack refused to look at him. “I might stay over summer but I plan to leave as soon as I can. If I stay here, I’ll end up in jail, I know I will. And — and you seem like the type that’s in it for the long haul. You want an actual relationship.” Again he paused, as if waiting for Jack to acknowledge the statement. Jack didn’t. “So do you want to break up now or over summer when I leave? Because I’m not — I’m not doing the long distance thing. I can’t. It doesn’t _work_.”

Jack pressed his forehead against the door, closed his eyes, and loathed the tears slipping down his cheeks.

“Are you—” Gabriel grabbed his shoulder and forced him to turn around. While Jack glowered, Gabriel examined the silent tears, growing more angry by the second. His finger jabbed into Jack’s sternum. “You chose, Jack. You went back to the farm. You _told_ me what your dad said, that you could go back once ‘ _this phase_ ’ was over. You think I wanted that? After _everything_ , you still went _back_ —” Rage flared in Gabriel’s eyes. “What was the deal, huh? Work the farm because that’s what he wants? Marry some doe-eyed girl from church?”

Gabriel leaned in close and bared his teeth. “How long do you think you’ll last before you actually blow your head off?”

Jack shoved him back. “You can be a real fucking asshole sometimes. I told him I was still gay — I _kissed_ you in front of him!”

“You said—”

“I went back for my mom!” Jack furiously wiped the tears from his face. “Didn’t you read the texts I sent you?”

Gabriel’s eyes darted away. “No.”

“You—” Jack shoved at him again, but not as hard. “Why?”

“I didn’t want to hear your excuses!”

“ _Excuses?_ ” Jack fisted the air. “You know my mom isn’t doing well and it only got worse when I left. I went back to help her, I’m trying to get her to go to therapy, how the fuck is that not a good reason for me to—”

“I didn’t know!”

“If you would stop making assumptions about everything and just _talk_ to me instead of—”

Gabriel surged forward, silencing his outrage with a firm kiss. The bitter taste of wine passed between them as their teeth clacked together. The harsh affection was punctuated with a sharp close of teeth over Jack’s lower lip. An apology caught in hold of anger, as if Gabriel sought to bully his way past the mess between them.

Jack pushed Gabriel back, glaring, but the kiss had knocked the bottom out of welling anger. He weakly shoved at Gabriel’s chest, again, because it wasn’t fair. “Kissing doesn’t fix anything.”

“Worked a little.”

“Dammit, Gabe.”

Gabriel softly drew his knuckles along Jack’s jaw. “Stay the night? Let me make it up to you?”

Jack silently screamed and brushed the hand away. “You’ve been drinking.”

“So?”

“You _just_ got done telling me that there’s no point in us pursuing a relationship, now you’re asking me to stay the night.”

“We can just fool around,” Gabriel whispered and dove in for another kiss, desperate to make amends.

Jack turned his face to the side, but Gabriel only took it as an invitation to trail kisses down his neck instead. Each one seared like a hot iron against Jack’s skin, stripping him of his armor. All he had to do was pull Gabriel close and let the friction torch his troubled heart.

But it was killing him, either way it played out, it tore him apart.

He slid his fingers between his neck and Gabriel’s lips. “No.”

The zeal bled out of Gabriel’s posture; his shoulders sagged and his head bowed until his forehead rested against Jack’s clavicle.

Jack swallowed down the hurt. “Like you said, I want more than — than that.”

Gabriel growled, “I wish you’d stop listening to the crap that comes out of my mouth.”

Jack smiled ruefully at himself. “When he opened his mouth, I heard angels sing.”

“What’s that?”

“Something my grandma used to say about a man she was in love with.”

 _Being young and in love,_ She had also said to him as she flipped through the photographs of her youth, _makes you blinder than bat._

Gabriel studied him for a long, thoughtful moment. His fingertips passed reverently over Jack's cheek. “Are you sure I can’t tempt you to stay?”

It was hard to believe, mere moments ago, how sharply Gabriel had honed his words. With a kiss, a tender touch, and words that stirred the coals of an interested heat, Jack found himself helplessly snared. His defenses dismantled and his body aching to surrender. The longing must have shown, because Gabriel — aggressively opportunistic in person as he was on the ice — saw the opening and went for it. He pressed Jack against the door and kissed him, hard and determined to chase away the shadowing doubts.

“Gabe,” Jack whispered in between hungry kisses. “ _Gabe_.” Hands slid up the back of his shirt, nails bit into his skin. “Stop — please.”

Slumping with defeat, Gabriel shifted his wandering hands to the door and tucked his face against Jack’s neck, refusing to meet his eyes. “I really like you, Jack,” he murmured, not wholly masking the tremble in his voice.

Jack’s heart broke in response. “But you’re leaving.”

“But I’m leaving.”

:::  
_Then only for a minute  
I want to change my mind  
'Cause this just don't feel right to me  
I want to raise your spirits  
I want to see you smile but  
Know that means I'll have to leave_  
:::


	16. Savior - Rise Against

:::  
_But seldom do these words ring true  
When I'm constantly failing you  
Like walls that we just can't break through  
Until we disappear_  
:::

Nursing a crush on Gabriel was a sweet agony compared to the misery of a broken heart that knew the taste of Gabriel’s lips, the softness of his hair tangled in fingers, the enamored look in his dark, golden eyes. 

Caught between his quarreling heart and rationale, Jack's determination thinned. As the days passed, He argued more and more, with himself, on why they were doing the right thing. It made sense to remain friends — _just_ friends. Tangling further with Gabriel would only make the pain worse when he left. Asking him to stay was out of the question. It risked tarnishing Gabriel’s future with a police record and, besides which, Jack wanted him to escape the abusive household he’d grown up in.

It was just difficult to explain it to his heart in a way it would understand.

Christmas Break ended and, as school resumed, Jack looked forward to the bittersweet moments. The mere sight of Gabriel sent his heart soaring, and seeing him wearing the gifted sweater — black with red piping and a skull logo — made him fluster. When their gazes met, Jack could do little but grin like a fool. A growingly frequent occurrence. Whether it was passing in the hall, sitting at the same table for at lunch, or catching a glimpse of each other in the parking lot, their eyes snapped together with the consistency of two magnets.

Gabriel wore the sweater every day for a week, making Jack’s heart sing with joy as much as wallow with despair.

At weekend practice, Jack struggled against the gravity luring him toward Gabriel. A static-like energy charged the air, building every time Jack caught Gabriel's stare, a wanting look with deep, drawing eyes. Like a deer sensing the watchful gaze of a hungry wolf, Jack remained hyper aware of Gabriel's movements around the gym. Adrenaline buzzed along his nerves, his muscles remained tense and ready to bolt — to be chased and pinned down, to have those hungry teeth on his throat.

Jack swallowed thickly while his scalp prickled under the unwavering attention.

The hour of practice passed in a blur and Jack dragged his feet, stalling his return to the farm. He didn't want to give up the electricity, but trying to hold on to the moment was like attempting to keep a fistful of sand. The team trickled out the doors with brief, parting words. Yet Sombra lingered, changed and seated with Genji in the bleachers; both of them waiting for their respective rides home. Which meant —

Jack’s gaze darted toward the locker room, once again feeling the siren-like pull.

One step quickly became several as Jack walked into the locker room. Finding Gabriel there, still in his gym clothes, leaning against the wall and messing with his phone, wasn’t entirely surprising, yet Jack's pulse rocketed. It didn't mean anything. It _couldn't_. Gabriel wasn't even looking at him.

But Gabriel also wasn't leaving.

Jack considered breaking the awkward tension but, deciding it was best not to prod at the unstable, swaying bridge between them, he turned away to change, settling for the thrill itching away under his skin. Just friends. Jack exhaled, slowly, and grabbed his gym bag. As he stripped off his shirt, he again felt those eyes on him. Burning. Hungry. The hairs on the back of Jack’s neck raised. A glance over his shoulder revealed the way Gabriel quickly dropped his attention back to his phone.

If Jack held his breath, he could hear the lights buzz. They were alone. Gabriel wasn’t leaving. Jack watched the empty doorway as he eased down the waistband of his shorts, only far enough to expose the band if his briefs.

Gabriel's weight shifted, his shoulders scuffing along the wall of painted concrete.

Jack’s heart raced.

 _We could just fool around_.

Temptation burned through him like wild fire, but the flames puttered out as a familiar ache bloomed in its wake. Jack closed his eyes, searching for the willpower within himself to let it all go. It didn't work. Frustrated, Jack briskly changed into a t-shirt and jeans and stuffed his gym clothes into his bag. He zipped it closed and stared at it, unable to convince his feet to move toward the exit.

A talk couldn’t hurt anything, the silence was just as painful.

Jack tossed his bag onto the bench running between the lockers, swapping it for the black, hooded sweatshirt draped over it, and stepped toward Gabriel with intentions of teasing him over his apparent fondness for the gift.

Yet, as soon as he slipped into Gabriel’s orbit, and those tawny eyes acknowledged him, Jack crashed. He pushed Gabriel against the wall and kissed him. Gabriel didn’t even put up a token resistance; his phone clattered to the floor as he grabbed a fistful of Jack’s shirt and held him close, meeting the press of hungry lips with equal fervor.

 _Just a taste_ , Jack told himself as his fingers spread along the warm skin of Gabriel’s waist. _To take the edge off_. His hand slid under the band of Gabriel’s loose, gym shorts, cupped the curve of his ass, and squeezed. The way Gabriel’s breath hitched, hiccuping into the kiss, was everything.

“ _Jack_ ,” Gabriel snarled his name, warning him, but in the same breath tightened fingers into Jack’s hair.

It felt natural to slide a thigh inbetween Gabriel's parting legs, to curl his fingers around his waist and pull him closer. For one, breathless, glorious moment, Jack felt how hard Gabriel was, pressed against his hip, and loved it. It felt right. His restraint frayed and his fingers flexed, uncertain. Gabriel’s breaths rasped hotly against his ear. Yet a nagging hook drew Jack away from the cloying lust — whether a lasting shame from his upbringing, his common sense reminding him of the consequences, or his inexperience getting to his nerves, Jack withdrew his hand, murmuring apologetically.

He barely retreated an inch before Gabriel hauled him back in. Stumbling, laughing, Jack found Gabriel’s lips and peppered them with a series of small kisses hindered by a persistent smile. Gabriel growled something in Spanish before pulling Jack into a more lasting exchange. Their tongues met and Jack quietly moaned into the kiss. His eyes fluttered shut. He needed this.

“Hana is going to start streaming in twenty minutes—” Sombra’s voice rang out, along with her footsteps, as she walked into the locker room. “And I told mamá I’d get the dishes done before I went to her house, so can we _go_ already?”

Gabriel scrambled away, snatching his sweater from the floor to shove against the bulge in his gym shorts. He fumbled to pick up his phone, his face dark with embarrassment.

Coasting along the high of a broken truce and stolen kisses, Jack grinned with satisfaction.

“Why the fuck didn’t you just get a ride with her?” Gabriel growled at Sombra.

“Oh, _excuse me_.” Sombra attention remained fixed on her phone screen. “Did you have something more important going on in here?”

Jack snickered, which drew Gabriel’s glare and frustrated snap, “Don’t you have to drive Genji home?”

He did, but Genji probably didn’t mind lingering in town instead of returning to the monotony of the farm. Jack gently shrugged and flicked a hooded look at the sweater Gabriel held against his crotch.

“I—” Gabriel stuttered and his face darkened further. “You — Fuck off, Morrison!”

As Gabriel stormed out, with an unimpressed Sombra in tow, Jack laughed. Happiness bubbled up inside of him, mixing with the warm affection blanketing his heart. God he wished he could live in that moment, never looking at the lonely road stretching ahead of him or the dark bramble behind him.

For two full days afterward, Gabriel pointedly ignored him. Jack found it overly amusing, finally seeing the subtle line between Gabriel anger and the farce he donned like a mask. It became a game. The tables were turned and Jack took pleasure in returning a portion of the frustration he’d felt all those months Gabriel had unwittingly flirted with him. He stood too close, he casually bumped their shoulders together, and he teased and smiled like they were long-time friends.

The lingering looks Gabriel gave him in return were the crumbs of satisfaction Jack needed to get through the school week. It helped to know he wasn’t the only one struggling. Jack toed the line, for weeks, until Gabriel retaliated.

“Do you think you’ll get anything from secret admirers?” Angela asked him as they walked the school hallway, passing by the endless garland of red and pink hearts.

A year rarely went by where Jack didn’t get a card or flower from a hopeful girl on Valentine’s Day. The first two weeks of February were a slow torture, building up to the official date of having to break someone’s heart. “I hope not. I always feel like a jerk when I turn them down.”

“I mean,” Angela said while shouldering the locker next to his, shooting him a quick, secretive grin. “ _Other_ admirers, since, you know, I think most of the school _knows_.”

Jack’s fingers paused over the latch of his locker. “You mean — from guys?”

She nodded and a flush warmed the sides of Jack’s neck. The idea of having a guy, other than Gabriel, express an interest in him, threw him for a loop. For so long he had put up a mental block to the idea of any guy being interested in him. Jack cast a curious look around them, hesitant to accept the notion of having male admirers.

“I doubt it,” he hastily dismissed the thought and turned toward his locker. “No one is—”

Upon opening the metal door, Jack was met with a waterfall of cards. They were cheap, featuring various cartoon characters a preschooler would appreciate, and every one of them was addressed with a familiar nickname. Johnny. Idiota. Jackie. Azul. Blue. Boy Scout. Jack stared down at the mess pooled around his sneakers.

“You were saying, Jack?” Angela asked, amused.

Words failed him as his heart trembled. The thoughtful gesture behind the cards, a mix of affection and playfulness, washed over him, nearly drowning him. He wasn’t used to receiving a lot of attention and this sort of endearment from Gabriel was a new and dangerous territory. It was almost too much. Tears stung at the corner of Jack's eyes.

He crouched and began stuffing the cards into his backpack.

“Who are they from?” Angela asked.

He blushed. “Probably just a joke.”

“Jack don’t—”

“I know who they’re from,” he blurted.

Angela’s eyes widened. “Who?”

Jack stuttered over several indistinguishable words before Angela softly snorted at him. She rolled her eyes and smiled. “You’re hopeless, Jack.”

As Jack gazed down at the cards filling his backpack, his chained heart bursting with affection, he couldn’t help but agree.

All through the day Jack failed to catch a glimpse of Gabriel. He wasn’t at his locker, nor was he in the cafeteria at lunch. During sixth period, just as Jack figured it was best not to have a follow-up after the mess the cards had created in his heart, the freshman class made their rounds delivering Valentine carnations. A yearly fundraiser; students could buy flowers to send to their friends, boyfriends, girlfriends, or to their secret crushes. Jack had received his share of flowers over the years. It became something of an annoyance. Yet when the single pink carnation was set on his desk, tied with a red ribbon and a tag reading Jack ‘bluey-blue’ Morrison, he had to cover his face to hide the tomato-like hue it had adopted.

Jack reverently carried the flower with him through the rest of his day.

When the last bell rang for the day, Jack thought he was in the clear, but upon opening the door of his truck and finding the cab covered in rose petals, he realized just how thorough Gabriel could be when set on a task. While Genji swept the petals off his side of the bench seat, muttering thoughtfully in Japanese, Jack stared at the dinner invitation taped to the steering wheel. There was no name signed to the card, but Jack knew.

A search of the parking lot failed to reveal his secret admirer. 

By the time Jack drove into town that evening, dressed for a date — _an actual date_ — his heart was bursting and aching to see Gabriel. It both surprised him and and didn’t when, upon being led by the hostess to the small, candle-lit table, Gabriel was there waiting for him.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” Gabriel whispered while pulling out a chair for him.

He almost hadn’t, belatedly remembering his house arrest order that limited his traveling. Yet when he had called his probation officer to ask about it, he’d been informed that the evening had already been given the go-ahead. Surprised, Jack hadn’t thought to ask _how_ or _who_ had arranged it, he’d just mumbled his thanks and hung up.

Still a touch speechless, Jack took a moment to simply drink in the prim and proper version of Gabriel. Dressed in slacks, a button up shirt, and his dark hair deliberately arranged for the night, Gabriel had pulled out all the stops. Jack slowly sank down in the chair, half afraid Gabriel would pull it out from under him.

It wasn’t until Gabriel sat across from him that Jack regained control of his tongue. “Spur of the moment in the locker room is one thing, but _this_?”

“ _This_ ,” Gabriel said while stretching out his legs to cross his ankles with Jack’s, “is revenge dinner.”

Jack couldn’t help but smile. “I’m already rueing the day.”

It wasn’t fair how handsome Gabriel looked, how the flickering candle light deepened the warm tones of his features. Jack toyed with the folded napkin set on his plate, itching to reach across the table to touch the dream smirking at him. Instead he asked, “How do you keep getting into my truck?”

Gabriel chuckled. “Guess.”

“ _Well_ —”

“You think I know how to break into cars — because I’m Hispanic?”

Jack balked. “No, I wouldn’t — it doesn’t _matter_ —”

Again Gabriel chuckled, grinning like a devil as Jack fumbled over his words. “Just jerking your chain, Jack. Did you know that you have a spare key in the gas door?”

Most of the vehicles on the farm had stashed keys nearby for hired farmhands to easily access instead of wasting time hunting down a pair. The spare key in the truck had always been there, long before Jack even started driving it around the farm. “Oh.”

Gabriel pressed his foot against the back of Jack’s calf. “Don’t worry, no one wants to steal your piece-of-shit truck.”

“Your car—”

“My _mom’s_ car.”

“You’re an ass.”

“And yet here you are.”

Jack’s heart twanged oddly in his chest. This was a date. An actual date. It was easier to think of the whole day as one elaborate prank. A game, nothing more. But the simple, _romantic_ gestures affected him, far more strongly than he wanted to admit, and he was drowning. Gabriel was pulling him further and further from the shores of sensibility, the siren song too alluring, and Jack didn’t want to fight it anymore.

He reached across the table and brushed his fingertips along the back of Gabriel’s hand. The playful grin faded from Gabriel’s face as, for a second, the veil that was the game between them dropped. Jack wanted more. Gabriel nudged his knuckles against Jack’s hand before withdrawing and shifting his gaze elsewhere.

Jack settled in for a quiet dinner of light conversation, lingering looks, and Gabriel’s foot snug against his own.

The bill never arrived and Jack suspected Gabriel paid it off during a trip to the bathroom. As they stepped out of the restaurant, the cool evening air did little to ease the heat Jack felt simmering just beneath the skin. It only intensified as Gabriel insisted on walking him to his truck. Jack didn’t bother with the keys. He leaned against the door and pulled Gabriel in for a kiss.

A chaste, peck of lips was all he got in return. Gabriel, smirking with triumph, held him back by the hips. Jack slumped against the truck door and said, “Is this more revenge?”

“Perhaps,” Gabriel mused while ghosting his lips over Jack’s.

Jack curled his fingers into the front of Gabriel’s shirt, gripping the seam of buttons and lightly tugging. “What’s your endgame?”

“Watching you squirm.”

Jack’s fingers trailed down until they rested on the leather of Gabriel’s belt. Gabriel edged back as the vainglory faded from his face. Jack slowly eased the leather free, loving how Gabriel’s breath deepened in response. The faint clink of metal sent forks of lightning through Jack. His own breathing quickened. He loosened the belt enough to thumb the smooth button of Gabriel’s slacks

Gabriel crowded him against the truck, lips brushing but not kissing.

Jack grinned. “Just squirm?”

“Get in the damn truck.”

The heated, growling order seared along Jack’s nerves, pooling hotly in his groin. He fumbled for his keys, but only got as far as gripping the metal ring before the car next to them chirped and flashed its lights as it unlocked. Gabriel sprang away with a sharp curse and fumbled to latch his belt. Jack glanced toward the restaurant and spotted the couple walking across the parking lot. A high pitched ringing started in his ears as he awkwardly stood by, waiting for the couple to climb into the car and leave.

Once again alone, Jack flashed Gabriel a strained smile. “We’re terrible at this.”

“At what?”

The wave of euphoria Jack had been riding, from the first moment Valentine’s cards spilled from his locker, ebbed and revealed the rocky shore beneath them. Jack’s eyes dropped to his keys. “At being ‘just friends’.”

“This wasn’t — this — I just wanted —”

“Gabe,” Jack sighed.

“I only wanted — _fuck._ ”

Gabriel turned to stalk off, but Jack caught his wrist. The twist of anguish on Gabriel’s face, visible as he turned around, tore at Jack’s heart. The idea of being able to gently break things off had been stupid. His fingers tightened around Gabriel’s wrist, reluctant to let him go.

“Thank you,” Jack whispered. “Not just for dinner, or today, but _everything_.”

With one ill-tempered shove at the beginning of the school year, Jack’s life had forever changed. It started with an exchange of fists, and dragged him through the brambles of a road he’d been too afraid to travel, but now he could see a future ahead of him; lonely, but brightening with possibilities. He doubted he could ever thank Gabriel enough for it.

Gabriel hesitated, his smile more fleeting than his glance. After a strained few seconds, he pressed a soft kiss to Jack’s cheek. His golden gaze lingered on Jack’s blue eyes a moment afterward, then he headed to his car.

Jack thought about stopping him, kissing him until they both forgot the consequences of their actions. The distance between them increased and Jack’s throat tightened with the impulse to call out. As Gabriel’s car reversed out of the parking space, Jack considered stepping in front of it to stop it, to crawl into the passenger seat and just drive until they could get away from the doubt. Jack did none of it, and when he finally climbed into his truck, he toyed with the idea of showing up on Gabriel’s doorstep, nervous but hopeful.

Jack drove home, his heart sinking through his chest like a heavy glob of hot tar.

The week stretched on, heedless of Jack’s sorrows. The boundaries of their friendship were set more firmly; Jack didn’t steal any more kisses or hover too close, and Gabriel did the same. They sat apart at lunch and paired with different people during team practices. Conversations between them became stilted. A time or two they fell into a familiar round of banter edging toward flirting, they’d laugh, catch each other’s gaze, and promptly shy away.

The gloom temporarily lifted as hockey state finals approached. Gabriel was nothing but smiles, and each one cast Jack’s way fanned the flames of his undying crush. Given time, Jack told himself when he felt so love-sick he wanted to cry, it wouldn’t burn so hot. In a few months he’d likely never see Gabriel again and his heart would have no choice but to move on. It hurt most at lunch, when Gabriel spoke excitedly with Lena about the upcoming championship. The hockey team, despite its ongoing internal strife, was in good standing to win. Their conversation zipped back and forth with such speed Jack almost missed the question Gabriel tossed out to the rest of the team.

“Are you guys going to come watch?”

Caught up in the vivacious energy Gabriel exuded, Jack straightened up as the words flew out, “Yeah, of course.”

The fond smile Gabriel graced him with in response was worth the heartache.

Two days later, Jack stood between Satya and Lena, huddling into his blue sweater as they watched the game. Lena embodied the idea of team spirit; bedecked in the team colors, gold and blue, she waved her arms as she hooted, hollered, and loudly booed with the rest of the crowd. Each play on the ice earned a small bounce of her heels and an excited clap of her gloved hands.

Satya, however, barely reacted at all. She watched the game with quiet, clinical interest. A few weeks earlier she had dumbfounded them all by sitting next to Mako at lunch. She had proceeded to unpack two homemade meals from her bag, setting the second meal in front of a very confused Mako. Faced with the stunned looks of the table, she had scowled back at them and stated something about ‘bringing order to chaos’. Alongside the food came a sheet of paper detailing her plans for Mako’s diet.

Mako, wisely, didn’t even try to argue.

She came along to the game to gauge how many calories Mako burned to better meet his dietary needs. Jack didn’t question her. If she had been anyone else, he would have assumed it was an exceedingly lame excuse to watch Mako, like how he was there purely to moon over Gabriel. But it was _Satya_ and _Mako_ — the mere notion of the scenario being anything other than what she said was too mind boggling.

The energy in the arena was tense as the game went on, the leading score flipping back and forth one point at a time. Jack glanced at the scoreboard, feeling the pressure, but mostly engaged with watching Gabriel dance across the ice. Aggressive, agile, and quick to his feet whenever he was knocked down. He never stopped. Working up quite the sweat, Jack imagined — he imagined it a lot. The thought of Gabriel drenched in sweat and peeling off his gear and clothes invaded his mind.

A burst of collective cheering around him brought him back to the game. Jack rapidly blinked and searched the ice for the object of his affection. There, rounding behind the enemy’s net, Gabriel skated along backwards. He was motioning to the other side of the rink, shouting something at a teammate. Jesse spread his arms and shouted something back. Then the cheering abruptly shifted, pitching low in a sympathic, painful wince. Jack’s eyes snapped back to Gabriel, only to find him face down on the ice. He slid several feet before stopping while his hockey stick spun across the ice.

Jack stared, the breath caught in his lungs. He’d watched Gabriel fall several times after brief altercations with the opposing team, but he barely touched the ice before he was back upon his skates, moving with more fervor than before.

“What happened?” Jack asked, tearing his eyes away from the ice.

Lena stood stock-still, her eyes wide and her hands clamped over her gaping mouth.

“That’s Akande’s cousin.” Satya pointed at one of defencemen from the other team.

The arena remained caught in a stunned silence, waiting on bated breath as the referee waved the paramedics onto the rink. As they carefully negotiated their shoes over the smooth ice, Jack’s gaze searched for Akande. A circle was forming around Gabriel, a mix of both teams, silently staring on like crows holding a funeral. Outside the closing ring, Akande skated by the one Satya had pointed out, passing close enough to exchange a quick fist-bump of gloves.

“What?” Rage swelled in Jack’s chest.

“Akande’s cousin, and the other defencemen, they—” Satya made a crossing motion with her hands. “—to Gabriel.”

Jack’s stomach lurched as his attention fixed onto Gabriel.

_Get up._

The circle tightened, blocking Jack’s view.

_Get up._

Jack pushed his way through the crowd and made for the access tunnel. He dropped down onto the matted concrete, stumbled, and scrambled for the barricade. He fumbled with the latch, swung the partition open and was met with Jesse blocking his path.

“Jack,” Jesse said as he stepped off the ice and onto the rubber mat. “You can’t—”

“Move.”

Whether he meant to murder Akande, or rush to Gabriel’s side, Jack didn’t get the chance to decide. Jesse crowded him, using his hockey stick as a horizontal bar to herd him backwards. Jack shoved at him, but Jesse used the weight of his gear, the extra inch of his skates, to pin Jack against the cold wall.

Jack’s fist smacked into the pads hidden beneath Jesse’s jersey. “Get the fuck off me!”

“You can’t go out there.”

“Akande did this.”

“ _I know_ ,” Jesse snarled back.

“Then — then _do_ something.”

Jesse’s expression softened. “Ain’t nothing I can do, Jack.”

Other than tossing off his gloves and duking it out, or standing by like another crow at a funeral, Jesse had a point. What was done, was done. In hindsight, Jack saw the warning signs leading up to that very moment. He remembered the bruises and injuries sustained during practice and games. Incidents that Gabriel wrote off as nothing. Jack had thought nothing of it, but now he saw all too well the chain of events Akande had planned out to that one, crowning moment.

Jack fisted Jesse’s jersey, bared his teeth, but the anger bled out of him as the paramedics appeared, carting Gabriel off the ice.

“Gabe?” A glimpse of Gabriel’s slack expression sent tendrils of icy fear through Jack’s chest. Gabriel’s helmet was gone, revealing his sweat soaked brow and closed eyes. He didn’t stir. “Gabe!” Jack made to follow, but Jesse held him firm against the wall.

“Get Sombra,” Jesse said, not releasing Jack until their eyes met and an understanding passed between them. “Coach will call his mom. Get Sombra and take her to the hospital.”

“What about —” Jack glanced back and forth between the departing medics and Jesse. “Are you going — should I —”

“I gotta play,” Jesse frowned and stepped toward the ice. “Game’s not over.”

Jack numbly nodded and reached for his keys.

* * *

The nurses told him “family only” and Jack wanted to scream about how he should be allowed into the room because Gabriel was his boyfriend. He doubted they’d believe him. Hell, if they had been married and he claimed Gabriel was his husband, Jack still doubted they’d let him in. At least then he’d be able to file a complaint against them. Then kiss Gabriel in front of them as a big _fuck you_.

Embarrassed by his own outrageous thoughts — Christ, he was one step away from carving their initials into a tree — Jack hid behind a home decorating magazine in the waiting room.

“Hey,” Sombra said from the doorway.

Jack shot up and ditched the magazine on the chair. “Is he okay?”

“Physically he’ll be fine, but…”

The nervous twist in her stance and words made Jack’s pulse race. “But what?”

“He’s just waking up, but the doc said the anesthesia might make him—” She grimaced. “You should come back tomorrow.”

Jack shook his head. “I need to see him.”

Muttering under her breath, Sombra pivoted and led the way to Gabriel’s room.

Jack felt like a rattling piece of machinery, jittering and jostling, losing pins and springs as he completed the short trip down the hall. Seeing Gabriel awake and sitting up in the bed sent a wave of relief over Jack’s nerves. He approached the bed, a weak smile spreading over his face. “You took quite the tumble, Ballerina.”

The livid glare Gabriel speared into him stopped him dead in his tracks. Jack’s heart and feet halted just short of the bed.

“I can’t play in the finals," Gabriel spat out the words.

Jack frowned. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“Yeah, drama queen,” Sombra added. “We don’t care about the stupid hockey games.”

The edges of Gabriel’s eyes were wild, the gold flashing with ire as he sneered at Sombra. “You don’t get it, do you.”

She returned the look with fire. “Why the hell do you even want that scholarship?”

“That you even have to ask that shows how fucking stupid you are.”

“Gabe,” Jack toned, shocked at the malice behind the words. He’d witnessed the two siblings bicker numerous times in the past, but never had he heard the revulsion twisting cold and sharp in Gabriel’s tone. “Calm down. It’s not the end of the world—”

The temperature in the room dropped several degrees as Gabriel’s attention honed onto him. Jack’s skin prickled with fight or flight instinct, drawing up the memory of Gabriel’s father, drunk and burning with malice. The parallels between Gabriel and his father were startling and _devastating_.

“Easy for you to say, isn’t it,” Gabriel said in a dangerously low voice. “You’ve got daddy’s farm to fall back on. Always had the perfect grades—” As he spoke, Gabriel teeth bared more and more like a snarling wolf. “I bet you could just smile and bat your pretty blue eyes and they’d throw grants and scholarships at you.”

“Stop it,” Jack whispered.

“What’s wrong, Mr. Perfect? Don’t want to admit you’ve got the silver spoon? Or that, _oh_ , you almost threw it all away like a selfish brat?”

Jack paled, recalling how much and how long he’d hated himself for being exactly what Gabriel called him. A selfish brat. He’d caused Ben’s death because of it. And even though he’d spent years trying to rectify it, to give rather than take, it twisted at Jack to think he hadn’t changed at all. Sitting out in the quiet of the fields, with a gun pressed to his temple, hadn’t felt selfish. Yet he’d known, if vaguely, how much it’d hurt those he’d leave behind. He’d wanted the easy way out.

“Guess it was the end of the world,” Gabriel continued, heedless of how deep his words cut. “All because you like guys? Gosh, better blow off your fucking head, huh?”

Jack’s hands curled into fists. “Fuck you.”

“ _Fuck you_ , golden boy.”

“Jack,” Sombra said as she grabbed his arm and tugged him toward the door.

He shook her off. The words hurt, but it was all bark. Wounded and afraid of the uncertainty of the future, Gabriel was lashing out. After months of getting to know Gabriel, Jack understood it a bit better. It didn’t lessen the blow to his feelings, but it helped him to recover faster. His fingers unfurled from his palms.

“Get out,” Gabriel snapped at Sombra.

“Fuck off,” she shot back.

“I need to talk to Jack — alone.”

“You’re being an ass.”

Jack placed a hand on Sombra’s shoulder. “It’s fine.”

It was anything but fine, but Jack wanted to quell the situation before a nurse intervened and kicked him out. Maybe, once alone, he could get through to Gabriel. Sombra knocked his hand aside and stomped out, muttering about how they were both stupid. A silence settled in her wake. A murmur of hospital machines and distant voices floated in from the hall. Jack closed the door, privatizing the fight he knew was coming; a fight he wouldn’t escape unscathed.

“You could still come to practice,” Jack broke the silence, knowing the hopeful statement would spur Gabriel into action.

“What’s the fucking point of that?” Gabriel snarled, his hands balling in the thin hospital sheets. “The only reason I was doing that bullshit was so Amari wouldn’t expel me and I wouldn’t lose my scholarship. It’s gone now. Fucking gone. So what’s the point?”

The memory of Gabriel sitting with them at lunch, joking and smiling, said it was more than just a means to an end. He’d been as comfortable with them as he’d been at home, teasing his mother and sister at the dinner table. Jack refused to believe Gabriel faked it for the sake of his scholarship.

“We’ll figure something out,” Jack said.

Gabriel sneered. “ _We?_ ”

Jack’s stomach flip-flopped, but he held a blank expression. “Satya might know what grants you can still apply for.”

“It’s too fucking late!”

“You don’t know that.”

Gabriel’s good arm shot out, dragging the IV tubing with it. “I put all my eggs in one basket and went tumbling down the — why the fuck are you laughing?”

“Sorry.” Jack clamped a hand over his mouth to smother his amusement. “I just pictured you in a milk maid’s outfit, swinging a basket of eggs and — _muy cómico_ — sorry, I interrupted your little bitch fit. Please, carry on.”

Gabriel sagged against his pillow. “You’re unbelievable.”

“What’s unbelievable is your wallowing and refusing to acknowledge any possible solutions. You’re pissed, I get it, you have every right to be angry, but you don’t have to attack the rest of us. I only want to help, Gabe.”

“That’s not what I—”

“Why did you want to talk to me alone?” Jack’s anger sharpened the edges of his words.

Gabriel’s lips pressed into a thin, grim line.

With a slow nod, Jack pursed his own lips. “You wanted to tell me off.”

“And if I did?” Gabriel said, looking anywhere but at Jack.

Even though the tension in the room had lowered, Jack remained near the door and slipped his hands into his pockets. It was a lull in the storm and Jack didn’t trust it to last. “Had a guy once tell me I should stop listening to the crap that comes out of his mouth.”

“Smart guy.”

“He has his moments.” Jack smiled, but turned the expression toward the window. If he left the subject alone, they could let the sleeping dog lie. It’d sit at the back of Jack’s mind, collect dust, but it’d also constantly stare at him, reminding him of the problems rooted under both their feet. Jack’s smile faltered. “But this guy has problems.”

He steadied his gaze on Gabriel’s guarded expression. “When he’s mad, he hurts the people closest to him. I don’t think he realizes it but, in a way, it makes him a lot like his dad.”

Gabriel’s glare bored through him. “Get out.”

Jack scoffed and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “Let’s hear it.”

“Just go, Jack.”

“You wanted me alone, so here I am.” Jack spread his arms out. “Here’s your chance. Say it.”

For a long moment Gabriel shook his head while looking at the wall furthest from Jack. Bit by bit his gaze hardened until he spit out the words, “Can’t you take a hint, Morrison? I tried letting you down easy, but you’re just pathetic — falling for the first guy to touch your dick.”

It sounded rehearsed, which bothered Jack more than the actual words. The idea that Gabriel had been practicing it, sharpening it, waiting to drive it straight into his heart, that hurt more than the words.

“We fooled around, nothing more. There’s nothing between us, so do us both a favor and fuck off already.”

It was bullshit, Jack was sure of it, but he couldn’t find his tongue to say as much. He searched Gabriel’s face for what wasn’t being said, for the reason why Gabriel wanted to drive a wedge between them. Severing ties. Gabriel wouldn’t _look_ at him. _Why?_

“Sometimes you just have to be mean,” Jack repeated the phrase Gabriel once said to him, “because people don’t always know what’s best for themselves.”

Gabriel’s face twisted with a myriad of warring emotions. In a way, Jack could see the good intentions behind Gabriel’s brutal words. The slow, agonizing way they’d been trying to part from each other was not doing them any favors. Gabriel was attempting to rip off the band-aid. Get it over with so they could get on with their lives. Still, Jack felt he deserved better than a knife in the back. He deserved the right to decide how to feel about it all instead of having Gabriel manipulate the outcome.

Jack opened the door to leave.

“Jack—”

“Don’t.” He didn’t turn around because he didn’t want to get sucked back in. “This is what you want and — I’m done.”

Done with making excuses for Gabriel. Done rationalizing his behavior. Gabriel had done his part to end things, so Jack did his. Without looking back, he walked out.

* * *

Gabriel didn’t show up for team practices.

While concerned, Jack adamantly ignored it. The closest he came to acting on his worry was to share a look with Sombra. Her brow had creased, apologetic and sad, but he didn’t ask. He brushed the feelings aside and carried on, aiming his focus on the upcoming competition. He doubled down on school work and farm chores, all while encouraging his mother to see a therapist.

Try as he might to make Gabriel a distant thought, Jack constantly felt his absence. Gabriel didn’t sit with them at lunch, or with the hockey team for that matter. Jack would have fretted over it more if not for Jesse’s additional absence. Wherever they were, they were together. Jesse had bad vices, but he was a good friend, something Jack couldn’t be for Gabriel. They’d torn and torched the confusing terms of their alliance and as the smoke settled, it became apparent that their friendship could not be rebuilt over the ashes.

Work on the farm ramped up as the growing season approached; fields needed to be tilled for seeding, waterlines checked and repaired, the bunk house cleaned out for the return of their seasonal workers. Jack _enjoyed_ work, he _liked_ being productive. It was always as the farm shook off the hold of winter that he got along best with his father. Spring was a time of renewal, and that year it seemed his father was trying, very awkwardly, to repair their damaged relationship.

They talked, not about the farm, but about _Ben_ , and about his mother’s unresolved grief, and it became utterly surreal when Jack spoke and his father _listened_. Jack almost broke down in front him, overwhelmed by the change in their relationship. For once he felt like a son and not some horrible burden. Then, when his father had tugged him into a hug, Jack had lost it. He’d briefly returned the gesture then excused himself to go for a long walk with Soldier.

As the weeks passed by, Jack’s heart healed bit by bit.

One evening his father, in high spirits over the good progress being made with the farm, took them into town for dinner. Jack’s parents, not being the adventurous types when it came to food, stuck to familiarity and chose the best steakhouse in town. As they walked into Casagranda’s, Jack's heart leaped about like a skittish horse. It bolted away when not only did he spot Gabriel working, but the hostess sat them in his section.

All the pain and longing rushed back to the forefront of Jack’s mind as his eyes constantly gravitated toward Gabriel and his ears strained to catch every bit of his voice as he spoke to other customers or his coworkers. Aside from a few fleeting glimpses of Gabriel in the school hallways, Jack hadn’t really seen Gabriel since he’d been laid up in the hospital.

He seemed fine, at ease as he smiled and joked with the other tables. Jack’s gut knotted with a mix of jealousy and bitterness as he listened to Gabriel talk with the people seated at the table behind him. It wasn’t fair. Gabriel didn’t seem affected at all by their severed relationship. Only the knee brace and a faint limp remained to even hint that things had changed at all for Gabriel.

“Gabriel.” Mrs. Morrison greeted him with a warm smile when he came to take their orders. “We haven’t seen you in so long. How are you?”

“Oh I’m doing fine, Mrs. Morrison—” Gabriel said, jovially, and Jack’s stomach writhed like a pit of snakes. “How about you?”

“So glad that spring is finally here.”

Gabriel chuckled, “You and me both.”

It wasn’t fair. Gabriel sounded so fucking _happy_ , like it hadn’t been hard to roll their shared past off his shoulders and kick it into a ditch. Gabriel had his eyes on the future, on the late spring when he graduated and _left_.

Jack stared down at his menu.

“You should come over sometime, I’m sure Johnny—”

“He’s too busy,” Jack cut off his mother’s invitation then grit his teeth against the burn creeping up his neck.

A tick of silence passed before Gabriel replied in a neutral tone, “Yeah, I graduate soon and I have a lot on my plate at the moment.”

“Do you? We’ll have to be sure to get you something.”

“That — that’s not necessary, Mrs. Morrison, but thank you.” Gabriel cleared his throat. “So what can I get you this evening?”

With effort, Jack managed to mumble out an order to his glass of water while wishing the earth would just open up and swallow him whole. The stress barely abated when Gabriel left. He remained a shining beacon of light, drawing Jack’s eye wherever he went. A time or two, when he walked past their table, Jack swore he could smell his cologne.

“Isn’t that your—” John Senior shifted in his seat as he struggled over the words. “Your ‘friend’?”

Flushing, Jack snapped his gaze down onto his silverware. The topic of Jack’s sexuality had never been brought up, and it both surprised him and left him mortified to hear his father trying to broach the sore subject. “No.” Jack’s throat tightened around the words. “Not anymore.”

It was one of the most agonizing hours of Jack’s life.

His father left Gabriel a generous tip, appeasing his wife’s desire to give Gabriel _something_ as a graduation gift but also showing he held no hard feelings toward Gabriel despite their altercation. The surreality of it all haunted Jack for the rest of the week.

Easter came and, as per Morrison tradition, Jack found himself dutifully helping the church hosted egg hunt. He always found it a touch amusing, considering the church’s view on the meaning of Easter. It was a means to get people to the church, so while the children were inside, enduring the lesson on the ‘true’ meaning of Easter, Jack hid the eggs out in the yard. The adults meandered about, sharing small talk over coffee and donut holes while Jack enjoyed the quiet work.

It all came to a screeching halt when Jack spotted Jesse McCree striding across the church grounds. Dressed in his best jeans, a button up shirt only slightly wrinkled, and his chin-length hair slicked back, Jesse looked so out of place that Jack couldn’t help but openly stare as he approached.

Jesse stopped a couple feet away, a toothpick rapidly flicking along his lower lip as the corners of his mouth ticked upward in a nervous smile. “Hey, Jack.”

“Hi.”

It took a moment for the gears of thought to turn. Jack blinked, slowly, and glanced around them, wishing Angela was there to witness the impossibility before him. In secret, Jack had thought of Jesse as something akin to a personal demon. He was all charm and smiles, offering Jack cigarettes and casual flirtations, luring him to the darker side right under John Senior’s nose. It hadn’t been long after Jesse’s more forward flirtation at the graveyard that Jack realized that, those two summers spent working together at the farm, Jesse might have been trying to snag his attention, to test the waters, but Jack had been utterly oblivious to it.

Now, having Jesse dressed up and sheepish before him, Jack’s mind spun around the idea that Jesse was there to ask him out.

Clearing his throat, Jack tilted the basket of eggs he still needed to finish hiding. “I’m afraid you’re too old to do the egg hunt.”

Jesse smiled and the tense line of his shoulders smoothed. “Just here to talk.”

“To God?”

A devilish light sprang to Jesse’s brown eyes. “Jus’ you.”

Jack’s heart fluttered against his wishes. His eyes swept down Jesse’s odd attire; the plaid shirts and worn hat suited him better. He arched a brow and asked, “Your phone broke?”

“Nah.” Jesse slid his hands in his back pockets while shrugging. “I jus’ figured you would hang up or ignore my texts n’ I didn’t want to corner you at school.”

With a soft, mental click, Jack realized why Jesse was there. His eyes narrowed as his expression shuttered, showing only annoyance. “So you ambush me at church?”

“Well, your house is too far of a walk n’ besides, I figured you’d be more amicable at church.”

Jack sharply shook his head, turned away, and resumed hiding the eggs. To his dismay, Jesse didn’t take the hint to fuck off and instead settled for dogging behind him.

“What do you want?” Jack growled.

“Is there any chance that you n’ Gabe could reconcile?”

His fingers tightened around the wicker handle of the basket. “Did he ask you to do this?”

“No. I mean, not really? He’s just — well, I guess I am here for me. Gabe’s a great friend n’all but he’s drivin’ me nuts.”

“Why is that my problem?”

Jesse sighed, “Jus’ talk to him, would ya?”

“No.”

He wasn’t the one that needed to apologize. He shouldn’t have to be the one to fix things when Gabriel seemed so intent on breaking it apart. Gabriel had shown no desire to repair the bridge broken between them and Jack refused to entertain the wistful hope attempting to burrow into his heart. Again he shook his head at Jesse. “If he wants to talk, he knows where to find me.”

A gusty April fell away to a rainy May.

In three weeks the seniors would graduate and Jack was sick of listening to Satya practice her valedictorian speech on the rest of them. She claimed to need their input to make it more crowd pleasing, but refuted any of their feedback. Jack skipped lunch to avoid the droll speech and a table full of strained smiles and fake praise.

He didn’t expect to collide with Gabriel as he rounded the hallway corner.

Out of reflex, Gabriel caught Jack by the arms as they stumbled apart. Jack froze as his heart leapt with fearful excitement. His skin burned under Gabriel’s fingers. Jack tensed. He’d thought he’d been getting over Gabriel, but as the hands lingered, he once again felt the maddening pull. Swallowing, Jack stared at the expanse of Gabriel’s chest, his eyes tracing the shape of his pectorals through the snug t-shirt.

Gabriel coughed, clearing his throat, and took a generous step backwards.

Jack let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and forced his gaze to Gabriel’s face. Recalling Jesse’s plea to talk, and the fact that Gabriel didn’t immediately walk off, Jack lingered in the growingly uncomfortable tension. Gabriel met his eyes in bits and pieces, flicking to and fro between fleeting glances.

_Well?_

Gritting his teeth, Jack refused to be the one to broach a topic. _One-one-thousand._ He’d give Gabriel several seconds to make a move. A generous opening. Jack pressed his lips into a thin line and waited, his heart exposed and vulnerable, begging for Gabriel to fix what he’d broken.

_Two-one-thousand._

Gabriel shifted his weight and looked up at the ceiling tiles.

_Three-one-thousand._

His chest swelled, his lips formed over a word, but nothing came out.

_Four-one-thousand._

A long time ago, Jack taught his brother to count the seconds after a flash of lightning. Count until the thunder rumbled; each one-thousand equaled a mile. Huddled together on the porch while the rain came down in sheets, they stared out into the dark with wild grins, waiting for the inevitable rumble.

_Five-one-thousand._

The miles stretched on, but the crash of thunder never came.

Jack stepped around Gabriel, the pain of his disappointment taking vindictive pleasure in the way Gabriel’s shoulders slumped. It served him right to get a dose of his own medicine. The bitter satisfaction didn’t last. By the time Jack walked out of sight, his heart was in weeping tatters. It wasn’t his job to fix things. As much as it hurt, he refused to clean up Gabriel’s mess.

Even if the mess was the gaping hole in his chest.

Friday evening, Jack opened the front door to an irate Jesse McCree.

“I can handle Asshole Gabe, I can deal with Bitchy Gabe,” Jesse snarled as he shouldered his way inside. He shoved a set of keys against Jack’s chest before jerking a thumb back toward the drive. “But _that_ is your god damn problem.”

Dazed, Jack cupped the keys against his sternum and looked out the door. The sight of the parked, white Mazda made Jack’s stomach drop. He spun around and snarled, “ _Jesse_.”

“He’s too drunk to drive.”

The keys bit into Jack’s fingers as he fisted them. “Take him home.”

“Nah, sorry, I’m beat and — _Genji!_ ” Jesse walked further into the house. “I wanna talk to Hanzo!”

Driving Gabriel home, then calling Angela to crash at her place for the night, was out of the question. Jack was on house arrest for at least another week. He couldn’t drive Gabriel home, it was past his curfew, and Jesse _knew_ it.

The stench of alcohol hit Jack as he slid into the driver’s seat and slammed the door. Gabriel sat hunched in the passenger seat, his hands covering his face. The tension thickened in the silence. Jack jabbed a key into the ignition to turn the radio on to dull the quiet.

“I didn’t want to come,” Gabriel muttered, determinedly not looking at Jack.

Jack set his elbow against the door, leaned into his upturned hand, and glared at the dash lights. His thoughts remained bitter, but his heart ached at the hint of apology in the words. Jack grit his teeth and said, “I figured you didn’t come here willingly.”

Gabriel winced. “He said we were going for burgers.”

“He seems to think we need to talk.”

Perhaps worse than sitting next to Gabriel, or glancing side-long at him and seeing him utterly distraught, was the sound of the bitter laugh Gabriel gave in reply. It stomped over the meek hope floundering behind Jack’s annoyance. He wanted to talk to Gabriel. He wanted an excuse to shuck aside all his reasoning to walk away from him.

Gabriel shook his head. “I told him you want nothing to do with me.”

“That’s—” Jack bit down on the words, chastising himself. He shouldn’t say anything, shouldn’t open the door to let it all back in when it’d been hell to shut it out. But Gabriel sounded so _hurt_. Jack grimaced while running a hand through his hair. “That’s not true.”

“Yes it is.” Gabriel had always been blunt, but the mental filter which usually caught the vulnerable honesty was gone. Now the words and emotions burbled out before Gabriel could stop them. “You won’t even _talk_ to me.”

“I’m talking to you now,” Jack growled.

“It’s not the same.”

While Gabriel didn’t slur his words, the cadence to them was all over the place. The words which started out as cool and firm became hurt and broken by the last syllable. Jack rubbed at his brow and said, “We don’t have anything to talk about.”

“Plenty to talk about.”

Jack snorted. “Like what?”

“Like! Like—” Gabriel straightened and wildly gestured at the window as if the writing was there for Jack to read. “Like how I’m sorry that I said that shit to you.”

“Gabe.” Jack shut his eyes in a poor attempt to close his heart to the drunken nonsense. “You said what you needed to say.”

“I said awful things!”

“Well, they say the truth isn’t comforting.”

“Jack — I didn’t mean it.”

“You did mean it!”

Jack throttled the steering wheel. It hurt too much to hear it, to feel the gossamer threads looping around his heart and towing him back in. The air became too thick to breathe. The radio buzzed in his ears. Jack reached for the door handle, but froze when he heard a soft sniffle. A glance to the side revealed the tremble in Gabriel’s hunched shoulders.

Gabriel shook from the effort of trying to silence the sharp intakes of air, the harsh exhales of restrained sobs, and the in between breaths he tried to hold in. The hand over his eyes did nothing to hide the wet trails sliding down his cheeks.

Jack set his eyes forward, his own emotions fading under his growing surprise. It suddenly made sense why Jesse couldn’t deal with Gabriel. Jack didn’t know what to do aside from stare. The longer he watched, through lingering glances, and listened to Gabriel failing to pen up his spilling emotions, the uglier the sobs became.

Gabriel clamped a hand over his mouth, which only served to make his breathing more ragged.

“Gabe?”

The hands lowered, only for Gabriel to smash his fist into the glove box. “I always fuck things up!”

He repeated the action, with more force, before Jack reached over and grabbed his arms. “Shit — stop! Calm the fuck down!”

“You were right.”

Despite the glistening tear trails on his face, Gabriel’s expression was frigid and stone-like. He was oddly pliant, allowing Jack to inspect his bleeding knuckles. Jack gently probed the bony ridges, unable to tell if anything was broken. Gabriel didn’t flinch, but the alcohol likely dulled the pain.

“I’m just like my dad,” Gabriel said.

Jack’s heart dropped. “Oh god — no. Gabe, _fuck_ , I shouldn’t have said that.”

“I am.”

“No, Gabe. You’re not. You’re sweet and thoughtful—”

“So is my dad, when he wants to be — when he wants something.”

Jack pulled Gabriel over the center console and into a tight, awkward hug. He smelled like stale liquor and body odor, was tense in his arms, but Jack didn’t let go. “When you’re not busy trying to be a tough guy, you’re damn smart and funny—”

“ _Muy cómico._ ”

A laugh broke out of Jack and he leaned his head against Gabriel’s grimy hair. “Yeah, ' _muy cómico_ '.”

Gabriel didn’t return the hug, but he sank into it, burying his face against Jack’s shoulder. He exhaled, shrinking under Jack’s arms. “Then why am I like this?”

“I don’t know,” Jack whispered while combing his fingers through Gabriel’s hair. He pressed a kiss to Gabriel’s temple before murmuring, “But please don’t hurt yourself.”

Gabriel shifted to regard him, his dark eyes hazy with alcohol. “You’re breaking the rule.”

Jack’s brows pushed together in confusion. “The rule—” _No kissing._ He scoffed while his cheeks flamed. The kiss hadn’t meant to be anything more than a soothing action. “Yeah, well—”

“Kiss me,” Gabriel said, searching his face.

The heat spilled from Jack’s cheeks, down his thudding pulse to sear along his heart before settling in his groin. Jack returned the scrutiny. Gabriel was drunk, or tipsy, or somewhere between the two where it loosened his tongue and actions. It was hardly the first time: a kiss on the dance floor, a risque phone call, a tearful confession. As confident as Gabriel acted, it was almost amusing how he leaned on the vices to express himself.

Jack tracked his thumb along the underside of Gabriel’s lips. “It won’t fix anything — it’s a band-aid.”

“I like band-aids.”

The same, stupid words he’d once uttered while yearning for another kiss. It was equal parts embarrassing as it was endearing that Gabriel remembered them. _Muy cómico._ The dumb little things they both latched on to because it came from the mouth of the other. Jack smiled, his heart aching with fondness.

For no other reason than because he wanted to, Jack kissed Gabriel.

A light press of lips that Gabriel surged into with an unfettered zeal. He tasted like booze and cigarettes, but Jack didn’t care. Lightning cracked through him and his heart fluttered wildly against his ribs. It wouldn’t fix things. They were broken, in their own ways, but somehow their jagged pieces fit together. The picture wasn’t perfect, but it was everything Jack wanted.

Jack broke the kiss and slumped into his seat. “This is such a mess.”

“A mistake?”

Repressing a sigh, Jack gazed at Gabriel’s crestfallen expression. It was all moot point while Gabriel remained intoxicated. When he sobered up the conversation likely would swing in a different direction. Jack lightly shook his head. It wasn’t a mistake, but it wasn’t the wisest of decisions. “Come on, let’s get you inside.”

While Gabriel could talk straight, his ability to walk was non-existent. Just pulling him up from the car proved challenging. He clung to Jack, his knees buckling, and Jack all but dragged him into the house. They managed to get down the hall and into his room without interference. There Jack dumped Gabriel on the bed with little ceremony.

Gabriel laid cockeyed across the blankets, both of his feet still on the floor. His eyes were closed, and remained so, even as he flopped his arm over the empty space next to him. “Where’re you gonna sleep?”

“The couch.”

A tired grunt acknowledged the answer.

Jack’s lips still burned from the alcohol laced kiss. He retreated to the hall before he acted on Gabriel’s wordless invitation, returning a few minutes later with a glass of water and two aspirin. Upon finding Gabriel unmoved but snoring, Jack rolled his eyes. Maybe, with some luck, Gabriel would misremember the whole night.

He set the water and pills on the desk, then quietly set about unlacing and removing Gabriel’s shoes. As he swung Gabriel’s legs into the bed, he stirred back into consciousness. He seized Jack by the arm and pulled him down. Jack caught himself with an outstretched arm to keep them apart.

“I miss you,” Gabriel said, one hand coiled in Jack’s shirt while the other slid around the back of his neck.

Jack pried the fingers from his shirt. “Then show up to practice, asshole.”

“ _Cabrón._ ”

“Yeah, that.”

“ _Pinche idiota_.”

Jack snorted.

“I’m’a teach you spanish,” Gabriel added.

As endearing as the offer sounded, Jack frowned. It reminded him, unfairly, of all the things he’d either denied himself, or just couldn’t have. All the time he’d wasted repressing himself robbed him of the simple pleasures. It was like they had flirted with the idea of dating, but never really got around to giving it an honest try. Jack had years ahead of him to explore and enjoy life, but it wouldn’t involve Gabriel.

Gabriel’s fingers curled against his neck. “Did I say something wrong?”

Jack quickly shook his head and looked elsewhere.

“Then why do you look so sad?”

“Because I wish we could do stupid things together.”

The slack expression Gabriel wore — something peaceful, almost smiling, but definitely edging toward sleepy — made it alarmingly easy to forget how cruel and angry Gabriel had been in the past. Jack struggled to keep it in the forefront of his mind as a reminder to not allow his heart to eke open.

It didn’t stop his fingers from sweeping along Gabriel’s brow, brushing aside his disheveled hair.

Gabriel hummed as his eyes drifted close. His voice trailed off as he murmured, “Like what?”

Not long afterward, Gabriel’s breathing slowed. Jack shook his head at it all. At the situation in general and his wistful thoughts. He continued brushing Gabriel’s mussed hair, tucking it behind his ears before letting his fingertips rasp along the coarse shadow of his beard. “Like snuggling on a couch while watching a movie. Like laying out in the fields at night and looking at the stars…”

“Like teaching you to skate.”

Jack sucked in a sharp breath, embarrassed to find Gabriel not only awake and coherent, but smiling at him. The silly words weren’t meant to be heard. Jack tucked his face in toward his chest and whispered, “Yeah, like that.”

“But?” Gabriel’s eyes narrowed as he puzzled through everything Jack wasn’t saying. His expression softened when he found the answer. “But I’m leaving.”

Jack started to nod, but stopped. Since Gabriel had lost his hockey scholarship, he didn’t have the funds for college. Gabriel might still go, debt and all, or even just move away. A selfish hope threaded through Jack’s chest. It was wrong to hope that, because of Gabriel’s misfortune, he would stay.

Eyes low, Jack picked at the blanket. “ _Are_ you still leaving?”

“I’m joining the army.”

“What? I—” Jack paused, watching Gabriel for any hint of a joke. “You said you don’t like taking orders.”

A slow grin spread across Gabriel’s face. “I don’t, but I figured I might like giving them.”

After a stunned heartbeat, Jack laughed. It fit. In an odd way, it fit. “I can see you as a drill Sergeant.”

“I’ll make those fuckers pay for my college.”

“Of course you’d look at it that way.”

Gabriel gripped at Jack’s waist, his expression devious. In his sleepy, tipsy state, he was anything but subtle with his intentions. “I’m not a boy scout like you.”

“I haven’t been a boy scout for five years, Gabe.” He gently rebuffed the hand.

“You’re still a boy scout at heart.” Gabriel resorted to grabbing Jack’s shirt and pulling him closer. “So when you join—”

“If I join.”

“ _When_ you join—”

“It won’t be because of you.” Jack allowed himself to be drawn in, inch by inch, putting up only a token of resistance.

“It’ll be because you’re still a boy scout.”

“You’re an ass.”

“I bet you miss being in uniform.”

His chest brushed against Gabriel’s and his heart raced with how little space was left between them. The rest of the house was very much awake, the walls of his room were not soundproof, and his door definitely did not have a lock. Jack palmed the space next to Gabriel’s shoulder to maintain the last of the distance.

He quirked a brow while his gaze fell to Gabriel’s mouth. “Do you miss seeing me in uniform?”

“ _Ugh_ ,” Gabriel shoved him away. “Not _that_ uniform.”

A twist of dismay briefly clenched at Jack’s heart. Now free from temptation, Jack had to give up his weak resistance and actually put effort into standing from the bed. It made him realize how much he’d wanted Gabriel to keep pulling at him, wearing down his resolve — peeling off his clothing one piece a time.

With a pained grimace, Jack crossed the room and flicked off the lights. “Get some sleep, Gabe.”

:::  
_So tell me now_  
_If this ain't love  
How do we get out?  
'Cause I don't know_  
:::


	17. Madness - Muse

:::  
_And now, I need to know is this real love  
Or is it just madness keeping us afloat?  
And when I look back at all the crazy fights we had  
Like some kind of madness  
Was taking control_  
:::

As summer neared, the world greened and bloomed with promise, and the lunch table vibrated with excitement for the end of the school year. While everyone else made plans for lazy days and late nights, Jack felt the uncertainty looming dark on the horizon.

In the week before the seniors graduated, Gabriel returned to sitting with the team at lunch. Jesse had jovially slid in next to Genji, launching right into conversation, but Gabriel had hesitated. He’d set his tray on the table and waited as the others flicked curious glances at him. The responses had been neither warm, nor cold, but hovering in a neutral zone because no one knew how to approach the topic of Gabriel’s last hockey game, the loss of his scholarship, or his extended absence from team practices.

Jack had flashed Gabriel a quick smile when their eyes met, but Gabriel’s lips had only twitched upward.

Gabriel eventually sat with them, but while the conversation shifted back to summer plans, Gabriel’s mood remained somber.

Determined to keep things light, Jack didn’t corner Gabriel and press the issue. It’d just be an excuse to open the wound he couldn’t stop picking at. Even their text messages remained sparse, stilted, and centered around the subject of the team. It was maddening and Jack hated it.

At their last practice, after watching, for nearly an hour, as Gabriel restlessly pace the gym floor, periodically gripping at the back of his neck as if wrestling with his thoughts, Jack caved and broke the silence. He bumped his shoulder into Gabriel’s and asked, “When do you start boot?”

Gabriel tensed, but once his dark eyes, burning with a quiet determination, met and held Jack’s gaze, the tension eased. “End of June.”

Jack had hoped they’d have more time together — sorta together. A summer of never sent text messages and conversations cut short by conflicting emotions. It wasn’t ideal, and Jack certainly day dreamed of different engagements, but he placated himself by grasping at the fraying strands of their severing connection.

“You do know,” Gabriel said, his voice lightening as he bumped back at Jack. “We can still keep in touch, right?”

It had occurred to Jack, yes, but he hadn’t wanted to get his hopes up. With the way Gabriel talked about the future, it sounded like he intended to cut all ties with the town, with all the people he’d once known. He wanted to start life untainted by the ugliness of his childhood. Jack wasn’t going to get in the way of it. But, if Gabriel was offering the opportunity, if Gabriel was willing to negotiate then — then —

Gabriel’s brows lifted in response to Jack’s blank stare.

“I won’t be deployed right away and there are things called _phones_ and _computers_ —"

"You want me to be your cam boy?" Jack teased with a slow grin.

Gabriel’s eyes widened and his cheeks darkened.

“Sorry.” Jack chuckled while waving aside his comment. “Couldn’t resist.”

“I—” Gabriel cleared his throat. “Wow, I wasn’t even — you know what, yeah, I do.”

It was Jack’s turn to color up as the tables were turned. He looked away, grinning and shaking his head. A hook of fingers around his elbow drew his attention back. The warm smile Gabriel wore, fond and singular, melted Jack’s heart. He found himself returning it before his apprehension could send up warning flares.

“I also wouldn’t mind just talking,” Gabriel said, carefully. Then, with a quaver of uncertainty, “If you’re open to the idea?”

The question didn’t need to be asked, the fanfare of brass and burst of fireworks in Jack’s head screamed his answer, but in the real world, his tongue wouldn’t cooperate and all he managed was a startled stare and a slow, numb nod.

“Good.” The weight of the world fell from Gabriel's shoulder. A second later he pressed a kiss to Jack’s cheek — in front of the whole team. Jack’s heart tripped over itself while from somewhere behind him Sombra loudly declared “ _I knew it!_ ”. Gabriel nosed the junction of Jack’s jaw and neck before easing back, squeezing Jack’s elbow as they parted. “I have to get to work.”

“Wait,” Jack caught him by the arm and lost his train of thought when Gabriel smiled at him like a fox about to be given the prize hen. “Did you just—” The brief conversation tumbled end over end in his head. He shifted it back and forth, puzzling through the subtext and the punctuating kiss. He searched Gabriel’s eyes, pleading with him to not be toyed with, not about _that_. “Did you just ask me out?”

The entire gym had gone silent as the question hung in the air.

Gabriel slid back into his personal space. “You just make sure to dress up nice when you come to my graduation party on Sunday.” Closer still, Gabriel’s lips ghosted along the shell of Jack’s ear as he whispered, “Also, you might want to brush up on your Spanish.”

With that said, Gabriel left.

Jack stared after him, his heart pounding in his ears. A study of the faces gawking at him, a mix of surprise, amusement, and knowing, reassured him that what had happened wasn’t a dream. Hope flared in his chest, burning, and Jack was afraid to hold on to it. He and Gabriel had been through the dance before, a building momentum of back and forth, only to break apart and start the tango anew.

When Jack stepped into the backyard barbecue on Sunday afternoon, he immediately wanted to turn back around and slip out the gate. Surrounded by Gabriel’s extended family, Spanish flew back and forth with such jovial speed that Jack could barely catch a word or two and fumble together a meaning before more flooded his small pool of translated words.

He took a small step forward, his nerves vibrating. Dressed in some of his Sunday best — light gray slacks with a pale, lilac button up that he’d once been told turned his eyes a lovely mix of purple and blue — Jack struggled not to stuff his hands into his pockets or cross his arms. He settled for smoothing the matching gray tie against the seam of cloudy buttons. Aside from a couple collared shirts here and there, a few sun dresses, and one floral skirt, no one else was as dressed up as him.

Gabriel appeared in front of him, snatching the end of his tie and giving it a firm tug. It wasn’t a clip on and Jack stumbled forward a step while bowing obediently to the pull. Gabriel’s golden eyes lit up and his fingers tightened on the impromptu leash. A petal of warmth unfurled in Jack’s stomach in response to the look, but the presence of the crowd prevented a full, heated bloom.

“ _¿Practicaste tu español?_ ” Gabriel drew the tie level, allowing it to slowly slide free.

Jack gave a wane smile and Gabriel chuckled, a sound low and deep and teasing his heart into a delighted skip.

“You’re hopeless, Morrison.”

“At least I have my good looks.”

The slow way Gabriel looked him over only added to Jack’s fluster. He smiled, unsure how to act in front of Gabriel’s family, unsure of the terms of their sorta-relationship. Gabriel hadn’t set anything in stone and Jack had been too scared to ask for clarification. Like a fool, he’d come, heart on his sleeve and a love-sick smile on his face, and quietly, adamantly, hoped for the best.

Gabriel caught him by the collar, tugged him forward, and kissed the corner of his mouth.

Jack’s face embodied the color and heat of a sun setting over a desert. A cup was pressed against his hands. Jack reflexively curled his fingers around it, grasping onto it like a lifeline while his eyes locked on Gabriel’s face.

“Drink up, Blue. You’re going to need it.”

Jack took a large gulp then coughed as the bitter-sweet tang of alcohol assaulted his senses. He swallowed it down with a grimace and eyed the red liquid. The smell wafting from it a deceptive fruity bouquet. “What is this?”

“Sangria.” Gabriel absently waved his hand. “Think: wine punch. Yeah?”

Jack took a smaller sip. “Do I need to be drunk for this?”

An arm slid around Jack’s waist as Gabriel steered him toward the buffet table. “No — just relaxed.”

“So drunk.”

Gabriel’s fingers splayed over the curve of Jack’s hip and breathing became increasingly difficult. It wasn’t just the stigma against homosexuality, but also the public display of affection that made Jack’s spine stiffen. At home he rarely saw his parents share a kiss; it had certainly become a rarity after Ben’s death. Even hugs were an awkward affair. Gabriel’s carefree touches felt so taboo.

Jack drank deeply from his cup.

“Jack,” Mrs. Reyes said with a smile as she fussed over the food. “You look very nice. Eat?”

The collection of made-from-scratch food, along with the squeezed in dishes from relatives, smelled divine, but Jack’s stomach — filled with wine and butterflies — gurgled in protest.

“This is Jack—” He looked up as Mrs. Reyes introduced him to what appeared to be her sister. Her english, while stilted, was appreciated in the fact that she was purposely including him in the conversation. “—he is a friend of Gabriel.”

“ _Mi novio_ ,” Gabriel said.

She blinked at Gabriel while her brows inched upward, “ _Pero, dijiste…_ ”

With a dismissive click of tongue, Gabriel twined his fingers with Jack’s and lifted their joined hands for them to see. “Boyfriend.”

Jack’s heart burst, pattering a joyous song within its ribbed cage. Under the racing elation, Jack wanted to crawl under the table, curl up, and die. Gabriel’s hold was loose, his touch warm, and Jack struggled to keep his own hand from becoming a stony gnarl. The world around him teetered, in his head, then in reality when Mrs. Reyes pulled him into a hug.

No questions; nothing but a hug, a smile, and absolute acceptance.

Jack’s eyes stung and he blinked, rapidly, to stave off the welling emotion.

A whirlwind of introductions followed; the names and faces flitted by, Jack’s ears only registering how Gabriel continued to refer to him as _mi novio_ and _my boyfriend_. Jack managed to smile throughout the whole affair, but honestly couldn’t recall the last twenty minutes. He was still submerged under a frigid wave of shock. He barely acknowledged Sombra when she popped up and traded his empty cup for a new one.

No one looked at him cross or whispered as he left and Jack didn’t know how to process it all.

When the surreal haze lifted, Jack found himself standing near the back end of the yard, sucking in shallow breaths while Gabriel’s thumbs rubbed soothing circles against the inside of his wrists. His golden eyes flicked back and forth over Jack’s face, openly concerned, while Jack teetered on the cusp of a melt down.

“Jack?”

“I’m fine.” Shouldn’t he be? He was over the moon, flung so far out in space that it was terrifying. He glanced toward the gate, _leaned_ toward it, but snapped his gaze back to Gabriel when the hold on his wrists tightened. He swallowed around the lump in his throat. “It’s just a lot to take in. H-how are you so comfortable with — with this?”

“Are you —” Gabriel cut himself off with a grunt. He lightly shook his head before curling an arm around Jack’s waist and turning him to face the party. “You haven’t been listening,” he said while pointing at a pair of women. “Those are my ‘Aunties’, if you catch my drift.” His arm shifted to point elsewhere. “That’s my cousin Julio and his boyfriend, Ryan. That lovely woman there use to be my Uncle. And that guy — you listening?”

Jack rubbed at his eyes, unable to focus his misty eyes on the people. His hands shook in tandem to the double time beat of heart.

“They don’t care, Jack,” Gabriel continued with a soft tone, “not in the way you think. It’s never been an issue.”

“I just — I just need to —” His knees finished his statement, buckling and forcing him to sink down to sit heavily on the freshly mowed grass.

“ _Shit_ — are you fainting?”

Jack drew his knees up to his chest and pressed his forehead to one. He felt a strange mix of flushed and chilled and couldn’t bring himself to focus on anything other than breathing deeply to settle his racing heart.

Gabriel knelt next to him and rubbed a hand between his shoulder blades. “Should I get you some water?”

“No,” Jack managed with a clumsy wave of his hand. “Just — a moment.”

“I’m sorry, Jack. I know this is a lot and you’re not really ready for it, but I just wanted to — fuck, I don’t know.” Gabriel’s warm hand tracked up and down Jack’s spine. “I guess,” he said while setting his chin on Jack’s shoulder, “I wanted to show you how serious I am.”

In-two-three.

This was happening. It was really happening.

Out-two-three.

Jack listened to his heart tumble and trip and finally settled back into a more sedate beat. Around the seventh exhale, he turned his head to regard Gabriel’s worried gaze. The afternoon sun caught in his eyes, heightening the tawny gold, the hint of green hazeling, the warmth—

“Wanna make out?”

“ _Gabe!_ ”

Gabriel nipped at Jack’s shoulder before flashing a wicked grin. “My room?”

“Your whole family is here!”

“Says that guy that would have probably jerked me off in the parking lot on Val—”

Jack smashed his hands against Gabriel’s mouth. “Can you _not_ say that so loud!”

Behind the fingers, Gabriel smiled. Jack shook his head, exasperated, but thankful for the bastard. He slid his fingers along Gabriel’s cheekbones, attempting to commit it all to memory. The end of June loomed in the near future. In a month, Gabriel would leave and Jack would stay to finish school. Even if he did enlist, the odds of them being stationed at the same place were low.

“Gabe.” Jack hated how much his words reflected the ache in his chest. “What are we doing?”

“Deciding where to get some privacy?”

“That’s not what—”

Gabriel stole a kiss. It was nothing more than a peck of lips, but it effectively silenced Jack. Gabriel smiled, as confident as ever, but his fingers toyed nervously with the end of Jack’s tie. His gaze dropped to his fiddling fingers as he spoke, “I decided I was being an idiot.”

Jack snorted and Gabriel yanked on the tie.

“Don’t interrupt,” Gabriel growled and the resulting thrum of tension quelled the last of Jack’s unease. “I decided,” Gabriel began anew, “that I wasn’t giving us a fair chance.”

“But—”

Gabriel grip slid up the tie to grip the cloth knot. He pulled on the thinner tail, cinching the tie more snug around Jack’s throat. Jack’s eyes widened. The pressure wasn’t enough to hinder his breathing, or keep him from speaking, but his thoughts derailed with a spectacular crash. His Adam's apple bobbed against the fabric when he swallowed.

The intensity behind Gabriel’s expression, a warning of narrowed eyes mixed with interest widening in his pupils, snared Jack’s full attention.

“I am not okay with this whole long distance thing. It’s going to suck — a lot. But since neither of us seem to be able to walk away from this, then fuck it, let’s do it.”

 _Just like that_ , Jack thought with a soft laugh. It amazed him how Gabriel could throw himself behind a decision. A line of color darkened across Gabriel’s cheekbones, undermining his bravado. Gabriel released the tie and his eyes darted away. “You’re looking at me weird.”

“I—” Jack wiggled his fingers under the knot to loosen the tie. “You’re the bravest person I know.”

“O- _kay_ , that’s enough sangria for you.”

Jack chewed over his lip while flicking a wayward glance at the party. Fuck it indeed. He leaned toward Gabriel, catching his eyes as he whispered, “Is your room still an option?”

Gabriel grinned.

* * *

Gabriel’s back slammed against the door. “ _Jesus_ —”

Jack crushed their lips together as he pressed flush against Gabriel. The last taste of wine faded with each eager swipe of tongue. He’d waited long enough, been good for so long, and he was through with denying himself. Jack’s hands cupped the back of Gabriel’s neck and head, his fingers curling against the soft, short hairs.

“ _Shit_ —” Gabriel broke the kiss, only to plunge back into it, his hands twisting in the back of Jack’s dress shirt. His swearing dissolved into a low, needy keen that sent a rippling wave of _want_ through Jack. It wasn’t enough. The door rattled as Jack pressed Gabriel more firmly against it, vying to be as close as possible, from lips to thighs, but it still wasn’t enough to sate the voracious need searing through his veins.

Jack abandoned the kiss and sucked a bruising line down Gabriel’s neck. His teeth grazed over Gabriel’s racing pulse, teasing the flesh with a echoing wonder about what Gabriel liked, and then bit down. Gabriel trembled against him and stuttered out a noise that ended with a quiet “ _fuck_ ”.

“Sounds hotter in person,” Jack said while grinning against Gabriel’s neck. “Better than over the phone”

Gabriel’s breath rushed out, “You make me any louder and they’ll hear us.”

An icy shot of thrill and alarm zipped down Jack’s spine. The window above Gabriel’s bed was cracked to let in the warm breeze of spring, but with it came the hum of music and chatter from the barbecue below. “Well,” Jack said while slipping his fingers under the hem of Gabriel’s shirt, slowly drawing it up until it bunched against Gabriel’s collar bones. “That’s your problem.”

Never one to back down from a challenge, Gabriel flashed a feral grin before taking the shirt into his mouth. He set his shoulders against the door and canted his hips forward, offering up his bared torso.

Jack drank in the sight, trailing his eyes and fingertips over all the dark skin and hard lines. The most vivid of daydreams paled in comparison to the reality beneath his hands, even coping a feel in the locker room had been a fleeting taste. Jack circled a thumb around the soft shape of Gabriel’s nipple as he considered the carnal buffet before him. Too many options. He wanted it all, in every which way, and didn’t know where to start.

He began with replacing his thumb with his mouth, reveling at the feel of the hardened nub against his tongue. Gabriel’s skin was hot under his lips and his racing heart palpable. Jack suckled the flesh, rolled his tongue over the hard bud, and smiled at the muffled sound Gabriel made in response.

Jack trekked downward, glancing kisses along the curve of Gabriel’s ribcage, and settled on his knees with his mouth pressed against the skin below Gabriel’s navel. His fingers worked at the latch of Gabriel’s belt, his palms brushing against the bulge forming behind the zipper. Jack paused, then, slowly, pressed his hand more firmly around the shape of Gabriel’s hard-on. Jack’s groin tightened in response, spurred on by Gabriel’s groan, by the way he rocked into the touch.

Jack swore under his breath, his mouth dry and his tongue clumsy, and hastened his efforts.

The jangle of metal as the leather slid free of the latch still rated high among Jack’s favorite sounds. The low, needy whine Gabriel made was quickly working its way up the list. Jack snapped open the fly and slid the pants down Gabriel’s thighs until the material caught around the knee brace.

The briefs were black, snug, and made from a stretchy, silky material. Jack’s fingers traced the bottom hem while his eyes raked over the prominent bulge straining against the fabric. When the musky smell reached Jack’s nose, he buried his face against Gabriel’s inner thigh, breathing deeply while his fingers continued to play over the slick material.

The shirt spilled free from Gabriel’s mouth as he chuckled. “You’re thinking about my thermals, aren’t you.”

Jack rubbed his cheek against the briefs. “Mm — the tights?” He was.

“You were flirting with me,” Gabriel said with an air of realization. “That day at the rink.”

“Not intentionally,” Jack muttered, a flood of heat curling in his cheeks. “Besides, you were sorta flirting back.”

A crease formed between Gabriel’s brows as the gears turned. Jack recognized the slight haze to Gabriel’s eyes when he was rapidly thinking his way along the twist and turns of a rabbit trail, chasing down an elusive understanding and rational conclusion. Jack smirked and nosed along the side of Gabriel’s erection, altering the course of his thoughts and the tone of the conversation.

Gabriel’s dark eyes snapped back into focus and he pushed his fingers through Jack’s hair. “You sure about this?”

With a sly droop of eyelids, Jack settled back on his heels. “You want me to stop?”

“ _No_.” Gabriel gave Jack’s hair a sharp tug for the cheek. “I just don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

“Aren’t you sweet.”

“Fuck off.”

Jack’s lips found the soft skin of Gabriel’s lower abdomen as his fingers curled around the elastic waistband of his briefs. He carefully peeled the material down while murmuring his assurance, “I want this.”

“ _Thank God,_ ” Gabriel exhaled, his thighs trembling under Jack’s hands.

Jack drew back just far enough to take in the generous task before him. Hard, ruddy, and already glistening at the tip, Gabriel was larger than Jack imagined. He wet his lips while his fingers ghosted along the soft skin, sliding down the underside before gripping the base. Jack’s eyes raised to Gabriel’s face as if to question how he was meant to fit it all in his mouth.

He slowly stroked Gabriel, feeling his own groin ache in response, and ran his tongue over the bead of pre-cum. The sharp intake of air from Gabriel, and the wanting groan following it, was all the encouragement Jack needed to devote himself to the task. Enthusiasm filled the gaps of his lacking experience, glossed over his blunders as he learned how to best coax the noises out of Gabriel, as he discovered he liked when Gabriel gripped at his hair while simultaneously rocking forward, sliding over his tongue, pushing deeper.

Gabriel’s braced leg shook from the strain of the position. Jack dug his fingers into the quivering thigh muscles, focusing more on the pulsing heat in his mouth, on the hand urging him to quicken the pace, on how noisily Gabriel unraveled when he obliged.

“ _Ungh_ — fuck, _fuck_.” Gabriel pawed at Jack’s neck and shoulders, grasping at his shirt collar to pull him off. He swallowed thickly before managing to whisper, “I’m close.”

Was he supposed to stop?

Unsure of the etiquette, Jack tentatively stroked Gabriel before taking him back into his mouth. He didn’t stop until Gabriel spilled into his mouth with a loud groan, nails biting into his scalp.

Gabriel melted against the door while Jack panicked about whether or not to swallow. Having nothing to spit into, and too embarrassed to excuse himself to the bathroom, Jack swallowed it down. Just as well, because as soon as Gabriel shimmied back into his briefs, leaving his pants loose around his hips, he hauled Jack upright by the collar.

“Come here,” he said, as if he had to beckon Jack into a kiss.

A question of cleanliness crossed Jack’s mind as Gabriel’s tongue swept over his, but — if the soft sound Gabriel made into the kiss was anything to judge by — it didn’t seem to matter where Jack’s mouth had been.

“Let me take care of you,” Gabriel said in between slow kisses.

A trickle of heat swept over Jack’s shoulders and zig-zaged down his spine. “Yes,” he said, launching into a series of small, urgent kisses. “ _Please_.”

Gabriel seized him by the buttons and, with a faint limp, led him across the room to where they tumbled into the bed. Gabriel angled his injured leg off the edge while he sat back, fumbling with the small buttons of Jack’s shirt before growling and pulling the tail ends free. His hands closed on Jack’s belt then went stock still.

Jack had heard it too, the tell-tale creaking of someone climbing the stairs.

“Gabe?” A voice called from the short hall.

Annoyance flashed across Gabriel’s face as he glared at the unlocked door. “Yeah?”

The footsteps plodded toward the room and Gabriel sprang out of bed, stumbling forward to catch the door before it could open more than a foot. He jammed his foot against the bottom rail to keep it in place while Jack carefully crept out of view.

“ _¡Pendejo!_ ” Gabriel squared up to fill the gap between the door and the frame and made a show of zipping up his pants. “You ever heard of knocking? I’m changing in here.”

“Whatever,” Gabriel’s cousin scoffed. “Grandma is asking for you.”

“Fine. I’ll be right out — stop smirking at me, shithead. I spilled salsa on my pants.”

The door shut and the footsteps retreated back downstairs. Jack chuckled from where he stood, leaning against the frame of the closet. Gabriel glowered at him, but the faint grin he wore ruined the effect. Gabriel motioned at him. “No one is going to believe that story unless you fix your hair.”

Jack huffed as he unbuckled his pants to stuff in the wrinkled ends of his shirt.

“And you might,” Gabriel said, his head canting as he pointedly eyed Jack’s crotch, “want to calm down first.”

With a grimace, Jack carefully pulled up his zipper. “I’d say you owe me, but it’s your party.”

“Oh, was that my gift?”

“Did you not like it?”

Gabriel lightly shrugged. “Well, I asked everyone else for money.”

Jack rolled his eyes, latched his belt and attempted to finger comb his hair back into compliance. Gabriel waved him over and took over, his touch slow and affectionate as it coaxed Jack’s stubborn hair into place.

“I guess I can make an exception for you,” Gabriel said.

“I hope only for me,” Jack smirked, purring under the attention. “It’d be kinda weird if you accepted such a gift from your family.”

Gabriel flicked the shell of his ear. “And here I was thinking of using some of the money to get us a hotel room for the rest of the summer.”

Heat bloomed across Jack’s chest as he rubbed ruefully at his ear. He searched Gabriel’s face for the truth behind the jest. A room for just them. No interruptions. No responsibilities. They’d spend every waking moment together and sleep in the same bed at night.

Gabriel’s fingers brushed along his jaw. “If that’s something you—”

“Yes! Yeah—” Jack cleared his throat and stared at his shoes. “That sounds good, but — after the race?”

“When’s that again?”

“In a week.”

Gabriel grumbled, “And two weeks after that I leave.”

“We’ll have to make the most of it.”

“Oh,” Gabriel’s tone conveyed a sly playfulness, but his eyes held the sad truth, the end was nearing. “I plan to.”

:::  
_Come to me,  
Trust in your dream  
Come on and rescue me  
Yes I have known, I can be wrong  
Maybe I'm too headstrong  
Our love is  
Madness_  
:::


	18. The Pounding of Hearts - Funeral Suits

:::  
_So long as I’m breathing  
So what if I believe in  
The heat of the love, the burning of skin  
The gates to the woods, the swinging of limbs_  
:::

Ants tore at the flesh of Gabriel’s knee, biting at the tendons and spitting acid over every inch of muscle. It was fire and needles and it took everything for Gabriel not to tap out of the race. He should have worn his brace. The mantra was punctuated by a searing pain shooting up his leg with every step. The physical therapist had warned him to not push it, but it had been months since the hit on the ice and Gabriel hated the reminder of his weakness. It had been a point of stubborn pride, that morning, when he’d decided to forego the brace.

Jack’s pinched expression and pointed look at his naked knee had not gone unnoticed.

The first two mile stretch of the race had gone by easily enough; even Mako managed to keep up. As a team they had jogged toward the obstacle course while the other groups had sprinted like children toward a ball pit. Slow and steady, Jack had reminded them during their huddle at the starting line, it would be a long race and the last trek would make or break them all.

The first set of obstacles had been an absolute blast. Adrenaline coursing, they all whooped and hollered as they scrambled over walls, climbed ropes and cargo netting, and hop-scotched through empty tires. The second leg of running weeded through the ranks. Lena and Genji pulled ahead with Jamison chasing their heels. Jack could have kept up, but instead hung around the middle of their thinning group. He adjusted his pace to jog alongside different team members. Angela and Satya, then Jesse, followed by Hana and Sombra.

Annoyance flared through Gabriel when Jack slowed to match his struggling pace.

“I’ll keep tabs on Mako,” Gabriel grumbled, gesturing for Jack to go on ahead. “Stay at the front.”

Jack matched his level of irritation, shot another look at his aching knee, but complied.

The pits of muddy water that made up the second obstacle course came as a blessing. Gabriel took his time, sliding into the pools and ducking under barricades, as it soothed the pain in his knee. He caught up to Satya in one murky pool. She stood waist deep in the muck and looked on the verge of angry tears. She held onto her composure with a steel fist, her chin raised high, but didn’t budge to lower under the water to pass the board barring their path.

Gabriel stood with her, soaking his knee in the cool water, and gently urged her forward.

When she finally mustered enough willpower to sink into the water, her fingers dug into his bicep, grasping him like a lifeline. Afterward she walked with stiff, regal movements; her shoulders back, her eyes fixed on the horizon, and her jaw clenched so tight she couldn’t respond to Gabriel’s concerned questions.

He saw her up the embankment on the other side then stalled under the pretense of waiting for Mako. Under the murky water, Gabriel rubbed at the protesting tendons of his knee. It was as he finally pushed himself to climb out of the pool that he came to fully regret his fool hardy decision to leave the brace at home. His foot slipped and his knee twisted awkwardly. Gabriel flipped onto his back, fist in his mouth as he bit back a scream. He slowly slid down the slope until his legs dipped back into the water.

“Fuck.”

One of the overseers was looking at him and Gabriel, hot with anger and embarrassment, clawed his way out of the muddy pit and limped onward. The winding path, weaving up the hillside, loomed before him and his leg threatened to buckle. He baby-stepped up the incline, ashamed of himself when Mako caught up, heaved with tired relief, and slowed to plod alongside him.

The slope steepened and Gabriel half-hopped to keep the majority of his weight off his knee. Mako said nothing, but his presence alone spurred Gabriel to keep moving. So lost in his pain and bruised pride, he failed to notice when Satya fell into step with them. Together they crested over the hill and Gabriel wanted to weep with joy as the ground tilted forward.

Then he saw Jack and Hana sitting in the grass a quarter way down the hill, the latter’s face a mess of mud-streaked tears.

Gabriel quickened his hobble, stumbling and sliding down the loose pebbles. Jack’s stony expression raised to regard him in weighted silence. Gabriel glanced side-long at Hana’s pained grimace at the same time Jack glared at his swollen knee.

“What happened?” They asked each other.

Gabriel waved aside Jack’s annoyed concern. “I should have worn my brace is all.” He plopped down in the grass next to Hana, grateful for the excuse to rest. Her face was pale, strained, and contorted with a familiar scowl of determination. She was coated with dirt and grass stalks stuck out at odd angles from her mussed hair.

Gabriel studied where her hands were wrapped tight around one of her ankles. “Did you fall?”

Jack’s eyes flashed with murder. “Someone pushed her.”

Pain momentarily forgotten, Gabriel’s chest swelled with rage. His eyes swept the rest of the hillside, seeking out the moron who was going to get beaten silly by two irate team captains.

“I sent Sombra ahead to get help,” Jack said.

“I’m fine,” Hana snarled through gritted teeth. “I just need to sit for a bit.”

“You’re not—”

“I want to finish!”

“You can’t,” Jack settled with a firm tone.

“If she doesn’t finish,” Satya said as she walked up, picking mud flakes from her arms. “Our team will be penalized and likely won’t qualify.”

“I can finish!” Hana rocketed upward, but just as soon collapsed with a mewl of fresh pain. Her hands fastened back around her ankle, but Gabriel had caught a glimpse of the swelling and darkening of bruises. Jack was right, there was no way Hana could finish on her own.

“We could carry her?” Gabriel asked with raised brows.

“Not with your knee like that,” Jack growled.

 _I’m fine_ , Gabriel almost said, but was spared the potential argument when Mako stepped forward. Without a word he eased up to Hana, hauled the petite girl to her feet and, as she gave an indignant squawk, slung her over his shoulder. He carefully plodded down the hill. Gabriel met Hana’s wide-eyed stare of shock, then shifted a questioning look onto Jack — only to find him equally surprised.

Together they looked to Satya.

Satya pursed her lips. “The rules do not say anything about being carried across the finish line.”

“We’re still in this,” Gabriel said, turning his attention to Jack.

“Good.” Jack pulled Gabriel upright.

On principle, Gabriel grumbled as he draped an arm across Jack’s shoulders for support, but secretly relished the contact. After graduating, Gabriel had thought they’d have more time together, but Jack still had a week left of school, chores at home, and also had agreed to go with his mother to her first few therapy sessions. Aside from a few kisses in passing, usually at team practice, and one Sunday afternoon making out on his mother’s couch, Gabriel felt the time slipping away from them.

“Satya.” Jack adjusted his stance to bear more of Gabriel’s weight. “Will you catch up to the others and let them know what’s happening?”

Her nose scrunched. “Is there more mud?”

“I don’t—” Jack never seemed to know how to talk to Satya. “I don’t think so?”

With a displeased frown, Satya turned and jogged down the path.

Gabriel leaned against Jack, his stubbornness fading as they picked their way down the hill, trailing behind Mako and Hana by twenty feet. The tendons in his knee tightened to the point where working the joint became a near impossibile. Sweat beaded along his brow, but hell if he was going to complain.

“You know,” he said, playfully despite the wince accompanying his next step. “If I mess up my knee too much, I won’t be able to go to boot until September.”

“If you fuck up your knee too much you won’t be going at all.”

Surprised by the cold, snapping response, Gabriel went quiet. He settled his eyes on the ground and focused on his footing. As the finish line came into view, Jack snorted. Gabriel darted a look at what little he could see of Jack’s face. “What?”

“Oh, just—” A hint of a smile twitched on Jack’s lips. “You wanted to cut Mako from the team.”

And now Mako was, literally, carrying the team's chances of qualifying on his shoulders. Gabriel echoed Jack’s derisive snort and said, “Well I guess it’s a good thing I have a weakness for blondes giving me sad, puppy eyes.”

“I did not give you puppy eyes.”

“You _did_ , you were all ‘Aw Gabi, he’s twying so hawd and—’” A soft grunt escaped Gabriel as he suddenly found himself laid out on the ground after Jack had purposely dropped him. Through the dust, Gabriel blinked up at Jack standing over him, hands set on the point of his hips, giving him a flat look.

“You done?” Jack toned, the barest flicker of amusement shining in his brilliant, blue eyes. “Or do you want to crawl the rest of the way?”

Gabriel rolled onto his back, stretched out his leg, and admired the cutting figure Jack made above him. Splattered with mud, face stern, and his light hair haloed with sunlight. Gabriel’s gaze lowered to the bottom hem of Jack’s shorts — the short shorts he liked to run in — and he flashed a lewd grin. “You know, I never really appreciated those shorts until now.”

Jack’s eyes turned skyward as he shook his head.

“Did you wear them just for me?”

It wasn’t hard to make Jack blush, the bloom of color so stark against his pale complexion, and Gabriel loved it. Not only because he knew, now, what it meant, but because it showed that Jack wasn’t closing himself off, he wasn’t shoving everything down.

Jack offered a hand and Gabriel took it, slotting himself back against Jack’s side with a purr. He splayed his free hand over Jack’s pec, pleased by the feel of a nipple peeking through the mud-caked material of the tank top, and by how much deeper Jack blushed in response.

“I was serious about that hotel room.”

“ _Gabe_ ,” Jack’s hand flexed against his waist.

“The reservation is on my phone.”

“Focus on the race.”

“Want to shower with me afterward?”

Gabriel tightened his arm around Jack’s neck, preventing a second drop into the dirt. They spun in a circle and Gabriel capitalized on it, pulling Jack’s lips to his for a quick, hard kiss before he whispered, “Say yes.”

“You know the answer is yes,” Jack surrendered, pliant but shy in Gabriel’s arms.

It still felt good to hear it. Gabriel kissed him, lightly, then patted his cheek. “Good — now stop distracting me. We have a race to finish.”

Jack’s eyes flashed, but he kept his lips pressed together. He grabbed the patronizing hand and, before sliding the attached arm back over his shoulders, he pointedly bit the flesh of Gabriel’s palm. Gabriel just laughed, tempted to pull Jack into another kiss, to pull him down to the ground and forget the race.

* * *

“We got second!” Lena shouted as she burst through the flap of the first aid tent.

Gabriel sat, leg propped up on another chair with an ice pack resting on his swollen knee, and tensed as Lena rushed over. He gripped his leg to shield it from her flailing arms. How she had enough energy to celebrate boggled him. He felt like rolling into the nearest ditch and not waking up until tomorrow.

Once Lena settled into a chair, he relaxed and arched a brow at her. “How’d we managed that?”

Her hands shot up in the air and she leaped from the chair and took to pacing in front of him. “Jack and Satya spoke with the officials and got the team ahead of us disqualified because it was one of them that pushed Hana! The other team showed up, frothing at the mouth, but Jack and Satya were as cool as — as — I don't know! They were like lawyers, the expensive kind, and they were all calm as they argued. You should have seen it! Satya even made the officials pull out the rule book to show _them_ that there was no rule about Mako carrying Hana to the finish line and — that put us in second!”

Jack appeared, taking the seat next to Gabriel while offering him a bottle of water. “Apparently a lot of the teams left people behind and if the whole team doesn’t finish, they don’t qualify. So, even though we fell behind, all of us finished.”

Leaning against Jack wasn’t necessary, but Gabriel did it anyway. He laid his head on Jack’s shoulder while sipping at the water. “Guess we have our team captain to thank for making us train all damn year.”

“Yeah.” Jack combed his fingers through Gabriel’s clammy hair. “You were pretty much useless.”

“Pretty much,” Gabriel agreed.

Over the next couple of days, he’d continued to be next to useless as he let his knee recover. Jack would insist on it, and while the thought of being treated like an invalid irked Gabriel, he was soothed by the fact that it would be _Jack_ fussing over him. There were several things Gabriel could think of doing while laid up in the bed. Gabriel rested the cold, water bottle against Jack’s knee and traced the damp curve up the inside of his thigh.

Jack briefly spread his legs before nudging Gabriel’s arm away.

“When I said I wanted you two to learn to work together,” Ana Amari’s voice startled them upright in their seats, “this is not what I had imagined.”

Jack stiffened, but didn’t move from where Gabriel continued to lounge against him, nor did he withdraw his arm from where it was loosely draped over Gabriel’s shoulders. It wasn’t the most confident of responses, but getting Jack to overcome the influence of his childhood would take time. Gabriel intended to help by needling Jack for affection whenever they were in public just to show him how much people didn’t care, and those that had issues with them, weren’t worth the trouble of knowing.

Judging by Ana’s amused smile, she didn’t mind the unforeseen turn in their relationship.

“Principal Amari!” Lena beamed. “Did you hear? We got second!”

“I did,” Ana replied with an indulgent smile. “I came to congratulate the team by offering to buy you all dinner.”

Lena whooped in approval.

* * *

“Who’s that Jesse is talking to?”

Lowering his third slice of pizza, Jack followed Gabriel’s gaze across the room. Jesse stood, hat crumpled between his hands. He was talking to a stern faced guy that stood a several inches shorter than him. He had long black hair that was neatly pinned up to showcase the fresh undercut beneath. His features were familiar, asian, but Jack’s curiosity caught on the horizontal bar pierced through the skin across the bridge of his nose. Jack touched at the spot on his own nose, wondering how painful it must have been.

It wasn’t until Genji bound up to the pair, flashing a shit-eating grin, that it dawned on Jack. He’d been hit with the guy’s harsh scrutiny before, always through the medium of the computer screen. “Wow,” Jack exhaled a small laugh. “I thought he’d be taller.”

“Who?” Gabriel asked.

“Hanzo, Genji’s brother.”

A beat of silence passed as Gabriel and Jack watched the awkward meeting taking place. From what Jack could glean, Hanzo had yet to say anything to Jesse. Under the unwavering, stern narrow of eyes, Jesse babbled while running a hand through his hair.

“Jesse took his hat off,” Gabriel commented.

Jack arched a brow. “So?”

“He doesn’t take his hat off for anyone.”

“He took—” There were several occasions clear in Jack’s memory when Jesse had swept off his hat to talk to him. His hand had also carded through his hair in the same, nervous tic. It had been more common when they first started working together over the summer, but had faded after a couple of years. In hindsight, Jesse’s small crush became obvious.

“He sure knows how to pick ‘em,” Jack mused.

Gabriel’s head canted and he began to rub at his stubble. “ I never would have pegged that to be his type.”

“I thought anything breathing was his type.”

“Guess not.”

Jack watched the exchange for a short while longer, cringing at how badly it was going for Jesse, then wished him all the luck in the word and returned to his pizza slice. The restaurant buzzed with other activity; half the room was filled with team and family members. Jack’s parents had come to the race, but passed on Ana’s offer of dinner. Something Jack was grateful for seeing as, upon arriving at the restaurant, he’d purposely chosen a small two seater table to monopolize Gabriel’s attention.

Jack nudged his shoe against Gabriel’s ankle. “What about you?”

Gabriel’s puzzled expression shifted away from Jesse to regard Jack. “What? Hanzo? I guess he’s good looking.”

“Your type, Gabe.”

“I don’t think he—”

“No.” Jack used a hand to hide his embarrassment. “ _Me_ , Gabe, am I your type?”

Gabriel’s attention honed on him and Jack dropped his eyes to the table. A peek upward failed to alleviate the sudden pang of insecurity Jack felt rolling through his chest. Jack swallowed the sticky lump forming in his throat.

“I don’t know,” Gabriel admitted, his tone a soft murmur. “I know what kind of girls I like, but I’ve never really thought about what I like in a guy.”

Jack picked at his napkin. “Bluey-blue eyes?”

“No — I mean, I like your eyes. A lot. It’s just — something else?” Gabriel scrambled to catch Jack’s hand before it could slip under the table. “It’s — it’s more like I never looked at you that way? But — because you were with Angela. Or I thought you were. So I didn’t look at you that way, or I tried not to — _fuck_ , I’m screwing this up.”

Gabriel clasped Jack’s hand between both of his and brushed it with his thumbs. He chewed over his thoughts, staring hard at Jack’s knuckles. He wet his lips before saying, “This is going to sound fucked up, but honestly, Jack, I’ve always liked you because you never put up with my bullshit. If I hit you, you just turned around and hit me back. I could never be with someone that just _rolls over_ , you know?”

Even if it wasn’t what Jack expected to hear, it went deeper than cheap flattery about his looks.

Gabriel continued to caress his hands, his eyes low. “So as far as my ‘type’ goes, I don’t think I ever thought you’d be it.”

Jack enacted a pout. “Because I’m white?”

Groaning, Gabriel dropped Jack’s hand and threw a balled up napkin at his face. “Yeah, because you are so fucking white. How did you not get sunburned today?”

“I put on sunscreen because I know how white I am.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “It must be white guys with bad jokes that make me crazy.”

An aspect on which Jack could always deliver. He flashed a grin, but before he could dive back into his meal, Gabriel nudged his leg and asked, “What about you?”

“Guys that can dance,” Jack said without hesitation.

“Really,” Gabriel toned flatly.

“As soon as I saw you dancing — I was a goner.”

Their eyes met and Jack managed to hold a straight face for all of three seconds before he dissolved into a fit of snickering while Gabriel shook his head, smiling.

Complimenting Gabriel on how handsome he was felt like such a shallow response after Gabriel’s awkward confession. Of course there was a physical attraction, but beyond it Jack enjoyed their banter, loved Gabriel’s wit, and he liked being privy to the sides of Gabriel no one else saw. And, there were things he liked but didn’t really understand, why seeing Gabriel, snarling like a wolf, made his blood run hot.

Jack shrugged. “I can safely say that nice guys aren’t my thing.”

It didn’t take long for Gabriel to sift the information through his mental banks of observation. With a smile radiating with smugness, Gabriel lightly commented, “Vincent seemed nice.”

“Too nice.”

“You like someone with bite.”

As Jack met Gabriel’s gaze with a hooded look, a heat expanded in Gabriel’s golden eyes. The back of Jack’s neck prickled with an electricity that raced down his spine. Earlier, Gabriel had made it a point to show Jack the email confirming the week-long hotel reservation. A mix of anxiety and excitement had swirled through Jack’s chest then, and now it came back, sending his heart cartwheeling down a hill.

“Wait—” Gabriel’s expression fell, morphing into a faint scowl. “You did stuff with Vincent?”

The moment flitted away and Jack gave a short, derisive laugh. “How the hell do you think it got out that I like guys?”

Gabriel grew serious. “What did you do with him?”

“Jealous?”

“Maybe.”

Jack let the topic stew, enjoying the way Gabriel shifted with impatience. A wiser man knew better than to be flattered by the show of possessiveness, but Jack couldn’t deny how it made him feel like the most important thing in Gabriel’s world. “Just some necking,” Jack said while Gabriel’s eyes narrowed. “At the theater. He wasn’t really into it and — don’t let this go to your head but, I was thinking about you the whole time.”

The cat who got the cream had nothing on how inanely pleased Gabriel looked by the information.

“We should go see a movie,” Gabriel said, by no means subtle about his intentions.

“Tonight?”

“No, maybe tomorrow. Already have plans for tonight.”

Mouth suddenly dry, Jack gulped down his drink.

* * *

Across the room, Ana chuckled and shook her head. Never, in all her time of working with the schools, had she been so thoroughly challenged by such a vexing pair of students, and _never_ in all those years had she been so caught off guard by the conclusion to such a long standing feud.

“Every unique problem has a unique solution,” she mused to herself. Mostly. A small, demanding palm was being held out to her from under the table. Ana staged a thoughtful hum as she resumed rifling through her purse, jiggling the small pouch of coins inside, only to set a gum wrapper in the eager hand.

The little hand fisted around its prize and retreated back under the table. Not a second later it reappeared, tossing the wrapper back at Ana. “ _Moooom_ ,” Fareeha’s voice whined.

“It speaks,” Ana said with a feigned gasp. “What could this creature possibly want from me?”

The hand waved about as Fareeha adopted a monster-like growl, “Money! Feed me money!”

“Of course.” Ana pressed a penny into Fareeha’s palm, smirking when the arm shot back under the table only to result in another ghoulish wail of dismay.

The penny rolled across the table as the hand returned. “Quarters!”

“You’re a very picky monster, aren’t you.”

“Give. Me. Quarters!”

“Or what?”

“Or,” the hand drooped with thought. “I will eat your daughter!”

“I’m okay with this.”

“ _Mom_ ,” Fareeha whined again.

“Perhaps if the monster would sit in its chair like a proper being and ask nicely—”

A five dollar bill appeared, being placed into Fareeha’s palm.

“Yes!” Fareeha shouted as she bolted out from under the table and raced toward the game room.

Ana sighed, then shot a reproachful look to the tall man standing next to her table. “Really, Officer Wilheilm, you shouldn’t spoil the children.”

“So I am told,” Reinhardt smiled, then gestured with one large hand at the empty seat across from her. “May I?”

“Please do.” As he settled down, Ana smiled. She missed seeing his broad frame filling her office. He’d once been the school’s resource officer, but had been reassigned due to his leniency toward the children. He never wanted to punish them, not even the bad seeds, and Ana had always appreciated his gentle hand. She studied the straining buttons of his dress shirt. “You look nice.”

Reinhardt chuckled while passing a hand down the front of his shirt. “Not often do I have the occasion to dress up. I wasn’t sure if it would still fit.”

“It’s only a pizza party,” Ana said, her lips twitching into an amused smile. “A t-shirt would have sufficed.”

“Perhaps I saw your invitation as a convenient excuse to dress nicely.”

Ana hummed thoughtfully while glancing toward the arcade to check on Fareeha’s whereabouts. “You dressed nicely for Gabriel’s graduation.”

“Oh,” Reinhardt’s bulk shifted. “You saw me there?”

Holding back a chuckle, Ana pressed her lips together and tried hard not to smile. Her mirth-filled eyes met Reinhardt’s faded, blue eyes. The kind-hearted officer offered her a rueful smile. “I will have you know,” he said with a rumbling patience that was so unfitting to his intimidating stature. “I cry at all the graduations.”

“But this one was special.”

“Yes,” Reinhardt conceded with a gentle smile. “This one was special.”

Ana cast a look toward Gabriel and Jack, and smiled herself. “You’ve known Gabriel for a long time?”

“I watched him grow up,” Reinhardt said with all the pride of an overwhelmed father. “You must understand, Miss Amari—”

“Ana — we’ve known each other too long, Rein.”

“Yes, Ana.” Reinhardt paused long enough to grace her with a fond smile. “You must understand, in my profession, I have seen many troubled souls. As much as it pains me to admit it, it is not often that the children from broken homes escape the influences of their circumstances. They usually drop out of school, or get involved with the wrong people, and agh—” He dabbed his eyes with his shirt cuff. “I’m always so happy when I see them grow stronger than the shadows of their past.”

Ana felt her own eyes sting in response to his tears. She pulled a pack of tissue from her purse and pushed them into Reinhardt’s palm. “I understand, Rein, believe me. Gabriel has darkened my doorway more times than I care to count. And Jack—”

“Oh,” Reinhardt straightened up, wiping away the last of welling emotion while his brows raised with genuine surprise. “They are — they are good friends?”

Puzzled by the abrupt statement, Ana swiveled around, following Reinhardt’s wayward glance to the small table Gabriel and Jack shared. Gabriel had Jack by the shirt collar, having hauled him over into a kiss. Ana, embarrassed for them, snapped her gaze back to Reinhardt’s startled expression. “It surprised me too,” Ana said with a chuckle.

“I would have never—” Reinhardt shook his head, smiling. “Good for him.”

“Now, if only someone could teach them some _manners_.”

:::  
_Slow burn, fast healer_  
_Too young to see it  
The kick in the air from somewhere below  
The pounding of hearts, the cages of smoke_  
:::


	19. Broken - lovelytheband

:::  
_There's something tragic, but almost pure  
Think I could love you, but I'm not sure  
There's something wholesome, there's something sweet  
Tucked in your eyes that I'd love to meet_  
:::

Pain underlined the pleasure coursing through Jack. He rocked against the fingers inside of him, marveling at the way the pressure lit him up from the inside, like touching a live wire he was rendered helpless by the powerful, electric pulses. The warmth pooled inside of him, building, erupting in small, shivering waves of sparks. Fire burned in the wake of the electric surge and Jack yearned for the next euphoric rush. Again and again. He clutched at the bed sheets, unable to hold in the series of groans Gabriel milked out of him.

One pitched higher than the rest, twisting Jack’s expression and arching his back, and Gabriel’s hand stilled. “You okay?” His words concerned, but his voice thick with desire.

Jack slowly exhaled. His mind swam through the cloying haze to focus on Gabriel. He knelt between Jack’s spread legs, one hand working him open while the other splayed over his lower abdomen, fingers playing through the pre-cum dribbled from Jack’s neglected erection, sliding up to trace along his chest scar. All the while he watched Jack with hooded, hazed eyes of molten gold.

“I’m good.” Jack nodded as his hands flexed against the bed, unsure of where to rest.

Earning a doubtful look, Jack curled an arm over his face to hide from the mortifying embarrassment of his inexperience. The penetration was a new sensation; an act he’d never indulged in despite his preferences. He was woefully unprepared for sex. But Gabriel was more than happy to take his time, to be Jack’s first, to be everything.

When Gabriel had mentioned having plans, Jack didn’t realize how much thought had put into the night. Beyond condoms and lube, Gabriel had been the one unashamed to have researched the more technical aspects of their coupling. After slowly divesting Jack from his clothes, Gabriel had laid him out on the bed, a folded towel under his hips, and dotted his naked body with soft, lingering kisses.

The reverent attention had made Jack squirm. He didn’t feel like he deserved it, but Gabriel had refused to hear any of it, and had lavished him in loving attention until Jack’s snag of self-consciousness eased. Then the touches grew bolder, heated and wanting, and Jack teetered on the cusp of begging for more.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Gabriel said.

“You’re not — I want you.” With all his heart.

Even if connecting with Gabriel in the closest way possible would make their eventual parting all that much more painful, Jack’s love knew no reason. He wanted to always remember that moment. The sight of Gabriel naked and beautiful above him, his golden eyes dark and smoldering, eager but patient and attentive to every need.

Jack had never felt so loved and wanted in all his life.

Gabriel’s fingers pressed against something inside of Jack, sending off another wave of mind-numbing pleasure. Jack’s back arched off the bed and he grabbed Gabriel and pulled him closer. “ _Ungh_ — please, just — _please_.”

More pressure was applied and Jack saw stars. He clawed at Gabriel’s shoulders for purchase. It wasn’t enough. He hooked a leg around Gabriel’s hips and rocked against him. The fingers retracted as Gabriel lost balance and Jack whined at the loss. His nails bit into Gabriel’s skin. He couldn’t think beyond the need flaring inside of him, feeding a deeply seeded hunger.

“Gabe,” Jack pleaded in between attempts to devour him in a kiss.

A tremble cascaded down Gabriel’s back and his breath came out hot against Jack’s lips. “I want you so fucking bad right now. Just wanna—” A low, rumbling moan finished the statement. As did the forward cant of his hips, the drag of his erection along Jack’s thigh, and the bruising quality of his groping fingers.

“Do it — please.” Jack pushed Gabriel’s arm out from between his legs before angling his cock to replace the fingers. As the blunt head pressed against his lube-slick, aching entrance, Jack shivered. He fell back against the sheets as fireworks worked up his spine, bursting in his head when Gabriel finally pushed in.

Jack held in a sucking breath, lost to the slow, bitter-sweet burn of the girth inside of him. His fingers shook where they clutched at Gabriel’s shoulder. It was so _deep_ , and the fullness touched him in ways unrelated to the stretch.

“Oh _fuck_ ,” Gabriel exhaled when he finally bottomed out. After a few seconds, he rolled his hips forward, burying himself as deeply as possible, and Jack pawed at Gabriel’s neck, caught between pain and ecstasy.

Unbidden, tears slid free from the corners of Jack’s eyes. Gabriel paused, his muscles quivering with restraint, and he brushed the moisture away with his thumbs, apologizing.

“Don’t,” Jack said as he caught Gabriel’s hand and pressed a kiss to his wide palm. “Don’t be sorry, not for this.”

Not when Gabriel had, unwittingly, shown Jack how to accept himself. Not when Jack felt so whole and loved. Not when, with a gentle roll of hips, Jack lost all sense of time.

Gabriel remained tender, attuned to every reaction, but Jack could tell he was holding back. Heard it in his stuttering exhales, the shifting of the sheets when Gabriel fisted them. Felt it in the tension of his shoulders, in the way his teeth pressed against skin without biting. Jack gazed up at him with hooded eyes, imagining the day when the gloves came off and the full extent of Gabriel’s ferocity was unleashed.

Jack combed his fingers through Gabriel’s hair, earning his golden gaze for a shared moment of unfettered adoration.

Amid feverish skin and damp sheets, Jack wrapped his legs around Gabriel and clung to him as the pressure built. His heart floated atop a sea of passion, reckless and loving the man thrusting between his legs. Jack’s nails scraped along the dip of Gabriel’s tailbone, spurring him on. Faster. _Harder_. The moment went on forever yet ended too soon. Speared toward the edges of climax, the maddening pressure was too much and Jack resorted to furiously stroking himself in tandem with Gabriel’s shuddering hips, to the sound of his guttural cry of release.

Afterward Jack laid in a warm, boneless heap, struggling to regain his wits while Gabriel panted above him. Once he caught his breath, Gabriel pecked Jack’s forehead with a kiss, then his cheek, before disappearing into the bathroom. He returned a moment later, the condom gone, briefs back on, and wiping his fingers off on a wash cloth.

He mounted the bed and swung a leg over Jack’s thighs.

“Ah — no!” Jack tensed and caught Gabriel’s wrists to avoid being touched; from his thighs to his ribcage, his nerves screamed with a hyper sensitivity.

Gabriel grinned at him. “Something wrong?”

“Don’t!” Jack choked while wrestling to keep Gabriel’s hands at bay.

“You have the sweetest pillow talk,” Gabriel teased.

“Fuck you,” Jack growled, the sound warping into an undignified squawk as Gabriel swiped the warm washcloth down his abdomen. The sensation was akin to tickling, but dialed up to max intensity, edging on painful. Jack writhed and wrested the wet cloth away from a snickering Gabriel to clean the mess himself.

Gabriel peppered his chest and neck with soft kisses, then nudged the lobe of his ear before asking in a whisper, “You okay?”

“I’m good,” Jack reassured Gabriel with a light kiss, then grimaced “Might be sore later...”

With a thoughtful hum, Gabriel slid back off the bed to dig through his pack. He shook a pill bottle over his head, “I’ve got ibuprofen or the good stuff when my knee is acting up. What do you want?”

“For you to come back to bed.”

Loathed to lose the haze of endorphins, Jack curled up in the duvet and patted the empty space next to him, enacting a pout in Gabriel’s direction.

“You’re such a puppy,” Gabriel said, smiling.

Jack softly whined for effect.

Snorting, Gabriel grabbed the tv remote before lying down and lifting his arms in silent invitation for Jack to wiggle closer. Jack did, happily resting his head against Gabriel’s bare chest. Content to have the weight of the arm along his back, the fingers in his hair, and the steady beat of Gabriel’s heart against his ear.

“It’s not like the movies,” Jack murmured sleepily as Gabriel flicked through the channels.

“What’s not?”

“Sex.”

Gabriel’s chest shook with quiet laughter. “Messy?”

“Yeah. After sex they just cuddle together—”

“Like they’re not lying in a wet patch with cum crusting on their skin?” Gabriel smirked, then gave Jack’s ass cheek a quick squeeze through the blanket. “Can’t say I know what the lube feels like...”

“It’s a little weird.” Jack chuckled. “And I can still —” his cheeks darkened as he whispered the rest, “— feel you there.”

The towel that had been spread over the bed prior to their activities alluded to the fact that it was not Gabriel’s first time. Jack didn’t comment on it. Instead he took to tracing his fingers along Gabriel’s ribs, smiling when a kiss was pressed against his hair.

“You want to shower?” Gabriel asked, his voice always light and soft when he was being genuine and sweet.

“In a bit,” Jack said, shaking his head and curling himself closer to Gabriel. His eyes wandered to the clock on the nightstand, once again feeling the time slipping away.

* * *

Two days passed by in a blur of daytime dates and nights spent entwined in the hotel room. They shared meals, joked, and walked close enough to clasp hands. On the third night they went to a movie, some sequel, or sequel of a sequel, or a sidestep of a sequel but really it happened at the same time as that _other_ movie. It was all very confusing, but it brought out the lore junkie in Gabriel.

Gabriel spent the entire movie explaining to Jack the different, interweaving plot lines, the backstories of the characters on the screen, and, apparently, all the confusing love lives between the characters that only came out in the comic books.

”In the comics,” Gabriel said, their shoulders pressed together and their canted heads close enough to whisper. “Those two have a kid together.”

“I bet their kid is tired of hearing the excuse ‘Sorry honey, I couldn’t make your game, I had to save the world’.”

“And that becomes the origin story of the next super villain.”

“He grows up to be ‘Really Bitter Guy’?”

Gabriel choked down his gulp of soda before laughing, earning several annoyed glances and one far away ‘ _shh_ ’.

It turned out Gabriel was the type to settle a hand over Jack’s knee and simply lean against him, his head nestled between the dip of their seats as he watched the movie. They ended up getting kicked out, not for lewd behavior but, for being too disruptive with their conversations that often ended in a chorus of sputtering snickers.

* * *

By the fourth day, Jack grew restless. He was accustomed to working the farm in his spare time and it pained him to laze about in the hotel room when the weather was nice. Gabriel aired his complaints, with only a fraction of actual annoyance, and accompanied Jack for aimless strolls through the nearby park.

Seated beneath the shade of a tall oak, with Gabriel’s head resting in his lap, Jack watched the rest of the park. His gaze hinged on a familiar face and his hand, the one that had been running absently through Gabriel’s hair, jerked in surprise.

“Vincent’s here,” Jack said.

Gabriel, eyes closed and lulled close to sleep by Jack’s fingers, grunted with disinterest.

Jack nudged Gabriel shoulder. “Let me up.”

“What?” Gabriel eased into a sitting position and caught Jack’s wrist. “Where are you going?”

“To talk to Vincent.”

The hold tightened, “Why?”

Jack rolled his eyes. “To apologize.”

“No,” Gabriel whined. “You don’t — why — who cares.”

“I care.”

Gabriel glowered, “So send him a text.”

“That’s—” Jack shook his head, not sure how to explain how empty an apology felt through a text. He’d been incredibly unfair to Vincent. Hadn’t even responded to the few, endearing texts Vincent had sent after the whole affair. “I’d rather do it face to face.”

“Jack—”

With a snort, Jack wrangled his wrist free and batted at the dried bits of grass stuck in Gabriel’s hair. “He’s not going to steal me away, Gabe.”

“Fine,” Gabriel lounged back on his elbows and glared in Vincent’s direction. “But, just so you know, if he makes a move on you, I’m punching him.”

“How charming.”

“I mean it.”

Confident Gabriel wouldn’t do anything but toss them sour looks, Jack crossed the park to where Vincent stood, smiling with a small group of friends. As soon as Jack neared, Vincent broke away from them to meet Jack, his smile never faltering.

“Hey, Jack.”

It shouldn’t have surprised Jack to find Vincent so amicable, but it did. He stumbled over his own greeting and folded his arms over his stomach. Vincent had every right to hold a grudge, but had chosen not too. He was far, far too nice. Maybe a bit too hopeful to mend things, Jack figured while taking in the full extent of Vincent’s beaming smile.

“I never apologized—”

“Angie apologized a lot on your behalf,” Vincent quickly forgave him.

Jack scuffed the grass with his shoe. “She shouldn’t have.”

“Well,” Vincent huffed a small laugh, “at the same time she said some pretty nasty things about you.”

It wasn’t the most shining moment in his life, that was for sure. “I’m really sorry you ended up involved in the mess I was making.”

“Jack,” Vincent raised his hands, palms out, to halt the apology. “It’s okay.”

“No, I — fuck, be angry at me, would you?”

The smile Vincent wore finally waned into something more forlorn. A sliver of hurt cut through his brown eyes. “It wasn’t ever going to work out, was it?”

Guilty, Jack glanced over his shoulder at where Gabriel watched them with the intensity of a hawk.

Vincent followed the look and gave a short, rueful chuckle. “I had a feeling, you know, when we met up at the mall, that you had a thing for him. I ignored it, because I was really hoping we could be something.” Vincent’s brow arched. “Is he threatening to kill me?”

Another glance caught Gabriel making a cutting motion across his neck with his thumb. Upon catching Jack’s look, Gabriel aborted the gesture, feigning to scratch at the side of his neck while looking up at the sky.

Jack grimaced. “I have a questionable taste in men.”

“I agree,” Vincent said then shot Jack a sly look. “But, hey, if things don’t work out with him, you have my number, right?”

Surprised, Jack chuckled with disbelief, staring as Vincent continued to grin while edging backwards. Jack eventually shook his head, amused. “I am not telling him you said that.”

Vincent shrugged, unapologetic, and spun around to return to his friends.

* * *

On the weekend, Gabriel convinced Jack to go back to where it all began.

“I’m not so sure about this,” Jack said as he gawked up at the flat-faced building marked ‘The Depot’.

“I thought you liked how I dance?” Gabriel teased.

It wasn’t fair how delicious Gabriel looked in the size-too-small shirt and the pair of pants Jack had commented about being the ones that best showcased his ass and thighs. He’d done it for Jack, taking the time to fuss over his hair and attire until Jack couldn’t stop staring at him. Then it had been Jack’s turn. He’d protested, saying he had nothing but formal clothes, nothing appropriate for dancing, which prompted Gabriel into choosing his clothes — an outfit similar to the one Jack had worn to that first Sunday dinner — and then they were walking the several blocks from the hotel to the The Depot.

“It’s just — I’m only seventeen,” Jack said, stuffing his hands into his front pockets.

Gabriel curled his arms around Jack’s hips and cupped his ass through the medium of his back pocket. They spun in a slow circle of an awkward dance with Gabriel grinning the whole while. “Jesse isn’t the only one with friends.”

“Honestly, I don’t really like your friends.”

“If it gets your ass in there, grinding against me, I don’t care.”

“I’ll happily grind against you back at the hotel.”

“It’s not the same, Jackie, trust me.”

Anxious, but willing to brave the noise and sweat as long as Gabriel was with him, Jack nodded his consent. Once inside, Gabriel pulled him to a clear spot near the wall. He scanned the room while leaning in the talk over the pulsing music. “I’ll be right back. Stay here and —”

“Don’t kiss anyone?” Jack asked, then smirked at Gabriel’s questioning look. “Jesse said as much when I was last here.”

“Which doesn’t spark a lot of confidence in your ability to follow directions.”

“I can promise that I’ll only kiss you?”

“I’ll take it.” Gabriel kissed his cheek before disappearing into the crowd.

The sports jacket was a mistake, even if it was made from a lighter material than a suit jacket. Sweat gathered under his collar and arms. His heart ticked away, sharp against his ribs, and it wasn’t until several moments later that Jack realized just how tense he’d been holding himself because, at the mere sight of Gabriel’s return, all his muscle relaxed with a comical sagging.

“Miss me?” Gabriel asked.

Jack analyzed Gabriel’s sly smile and the hidden item closed in his fist. “What’s this?”

Gabriel pressed close, lips hovering over Jack’s. “Do you trust me?”

As if he didn’t already know the answer. The sweat dampening Jack’s neck went cold as he watched Gabriel ease back and pop something into his mouth. He beckoned Jack closer, flashed the small, white disc on his tongue, and whispered, “Kiss me.”

Oddly, Jack worried more about the strange pill being passed over to him than the fact he was kissing Gabriel in public.

“Under the tongue,” Gabriel said, lips brushing Jack’s ear. “Let it dissolve.”

Heart pounding, Jack did as he was told while wrapping his arms around Gabriel’s neck, clinging to him, terrified of what was going to happen. Gabriel held him in return and whispered, “I’ve got you,” before wading them through the shallows of idling groups and into the sea of dancing bodies.

Under the jacket, Gabriel’s hands rubbed against Jack’s back in a slow, soothing motion. The flashing panels above draped them in colors, pulsing with the music that beat on faster than their lazy side-to-side sway. Jack hid his face in the safety of Gabriel’s neck, his shoulders remained tense despite the tender, reassuring touches.

The change wasn’t immediate, instead the effects crept over him in subtle steps. The crowd around him became less important, less panic inducing. Only Gabriel’s presence, slotted against him, mattered. Jack’s death grip loosened and he became enthralled by the changing colors, painting Gabriel’s face in so many different shades. Jack couldn’t understand how he could _feel_ the colors through his eyes, but every shift in hue sent a pleasant chill down his spine, every tilt of their weight felt like the world moving.

“Oh god,” Jack gasped when Gabriel’s fingers trailed feather-light up the skin of his forearms, bringing out a fresh wash of goosebumps over his skin while his nerves rolled with tiny, euphoric waves.

Gabriel chuckled and pulled Jack closer to whisper against his ear, “What I said to you, that night in the truck, was ‘I bet it would feel amazing if I sucked you off right now’.”

“Oh god,” Jack said again, unable to find any other words, certainly not when, with every brush of lips against skin, stars flared inside of him. Fingertips dancing; the world spinning. He closed his eyes against the colors that’d developed into textures. “Oh god.” Jack rolled his shoulders, trying to pull off the jacket to better feel the air on his flushed skin.

Gabriel caught him by the lapels and guided him off the dance floor and out into the blissfully cool night.  
A hazy, orange glow of the town clung to the underside of the clouds. Jack tilted his head back to admire it, caught between words of _fire_ and _sea_ , while the gentle wind caressed his heated skin as one of the most god sent things he’d ever felt. Jack basked in the strange beauty of it while his fingers remained hooked with Gabriel’s.

“Gabriel,” Jack said, smiling at the feel of the full name on his tongue, unconcerned about the shadows he was being led into; as long as he had his guide, his beacon of warmth and light, his savior, nothing worried him.

“Yes, Jack?”

Jack hummed in response, content to just hear the timbres of Gabriel’s voice. He liked the rumble in Gabriel’s words when the hour grew late, the way it became an incoherent mumble when he was tired.

The wall of The Depot was hard against Jack’s back, but Gabriel’s fingers were like feathers — electrified feathers. The touch traced buzzing lines up Jack’s arms, across his collar bones, and down his chest before circling around his waist. The fingers gently worked up Jack’s spine to repeat the process.

“Gabriel,” Jack said again, his eyes closed, the music from within passing through the wall to tickle against his spine.

The touch slid into Jack’s hair and he groaned, losing hold on the words stretching out from the depth of his soul. In lieu of words, he reached for Gabriel and drew him into a slow, lazy kiss. His own fingers carded into Gabriel’s hair and again Jack groaned, marveling at the impossible silky softness of the dark strands.

Gabriel lowered to his knees.

“I love you,” Jack murmured, his eyes cracking open. The words had sprung up, warm and trusting, and once they’d passed his lips, Jack smiled with the odd sense of completion. “I love you,” He said again, enjoying the sense of freedom it gave him, like the door of his cage had finally swung open. “I love you.”

Gabriel chuckled, softly, while unbuttoning the front of Jack’s pants. “Hard to know if that’s the molly talking, or because I’m about to—” As the pants slid down, Gabriel nosed the line of Jack’s crotch.

Another moan stole his words. Jack clutched at the soft fluff of Gabriel’s hair as the wet, velvet heat of his mouth rendered him incoherent. Jack slanted against the wall and gave in to the two pleasures wrapping around him. Warm and loved; hot and needy. He rode the waves of pleasure as much as he drowned under them.

The night blurred.

He remembered the draining rush of spilling into Gabriel’s mouth, the tangy kiss afterward, and then the comfort of Gabriel’s shoulder as they rode in the backseat of a car. Jack's eyes fluttered to the lights passing by the windows. “Where are we?”

“Don’t worry,” Gabriel said, his arm secure around Jack’s waist. “I’ve got you.”

At the hotel, wrapped up in the safety of Gabriel’s arms, Jack melted into the bed.

* * *

June ended with Jack hugging Gabriel tightly, face pressed into his neck as silent tears rolled down his cheeks. The bus station buzzed with activity. Gabriel had wanted to head out on his own instead of being dropped off by his equally tearful mother. Even Sombra's eyes had glistened when she’d hugged Gabriel. Jack had waited for his turn, knowing that once he had his arms around Gabriel, he wouldn’t know how to convince himself to let go.

“This isn’t goodbye,” Gabriel said, holding Jack just as fiercely, his nose buried in Jack’s hair. “I’ll be back after boot and when I have leave — I’ll be state side for at least another year.”

“I know,” Jack said, biting down on the tremble in his voice.

It still felt like a goodbye.

The rest of the summer passed in a somber haze, broken by farm work and evenings spent with either Jesse, Angela, or a mix of the late Spartan team. The loose bonds of friendship they’d developed while practicing as a team still holding. It was a comforting net, cradling him when he needed a bit of support.

Gabriel returned after ten weeks of basic training, but left the next week to his first duty station — somewhere on California’s coast. The phone calls Jack received in the following weeks were filled with talks about how much Gabriel loved the beach, how he never wanted to live somewhere landlocked ever again.

Jack smiled ruefully while his heart ached, but refrained from dampening Gabriel’s excitement by telling him how much he was missed.

* * *

“Can you see me?” Gabriel asked.

On the laptop screen, in the grainy feed of a video call, Gabriel — dressed in fatigue pants and the dull gray-green of his PT shirt — adjusted the angle of the webcam.

“Sorta,” Jack said, smiling.

Gabriel’s fiddling paused, his eyes studying the screen from his side. “I don’t think the quality is getting any better.”

Between blips, glitches, and frames that jerked away in tiny squares, Jack had a poor view of Gabriel, but his memory filled in the blanks. “It’s fine, Gabe.”

“Not really,” Gabriel huffed. “I was really looking forward to seeing your smile.”

Blushing, Jack smiled all that much harder.

“Yeah,” Gabriel added, his smile soft and his voice fond. “That one.”

* * *

The last of the sunlight sizzled across Jack’s shoulders as he hefted the last hay bale onto the trailer. He swiped off his work gloves and flexed his hands through the sting of handling the twine. He used his dirty, white tank top to wipe the sweat from his face, then winced at the way his skin protested the contact. A summer rarely went by where the sun didn’t manage to burn him, nice and crisp, at least once. The hat and sunglasses he’d worn only did so much, and often rewarded him with the most unflattering of tan lines.

He turned to Jesse, ready to call it a day, but paused upon catching Jesse ogling him. Jack cleared his throat to catch his straying attention, “Jess?”

“Mm?” Jesse’s brows lifted, his eyes meeting Jack’s, then darting off to the side upon realizing he’d been caught staring. He chewed over the toothpick that had replaced the cigarette a couple months ago.

Jesse doffed his hat and used it to fan his tired face, shooting Jack a wry grin. “Y’know, I used to catch you lookin’ at me like that.”

A blush darkened the skin of Jack’s sunburnt cheeks. He scratched at his neck, his nails scraping over the caked mix of dirt and sweat.

“I could tell you were tryin’ t’hide it too,” Jesse added, his face twisting into a faint grimace. “It kinda sticks me.”

“Sticks?” Jack asked while climbing onto the trailer to lounge against their hard work.

“Yeah, like remembering that is like someone’s got this sharp stick, and they keep poking me with it, riling me up. It sticks me.”

“Why? I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

“No, Jack, it pisses me off that for two whole summers I tried to coax you out of the closet and then Gabe — who never gave you the damn time of day — swooped in and stole all the glory.”

“Oh,” Jack said, awkwardly.

“It sticks,” Jesse repeated while grinding his teeth over the toothpick. “’Cause I had the biggest crush on you, and when I realized what was going on between you two, I was pretty bitter for a while.”

Jack flicked at the stray stalks of hay. “And now?”

“Moved on.”

The quiet, stirred by only the emerging cadence of brave crickets greeting the evening’s cooling air, held the moment for a while, letting the information sink in, then pass through. It was the last summer Jack would spend on the farm, the last summer he’d work with Jesse. Once fall came, Jack would leave for basic training.

Angela had already left for college, promising to keep in touch. And, as far as Jack knew, Jesse had no plans for the future. No ideals of furthering his education, and he sneered at the notion of working a full time job. 

Jack offered Jesse a half-grin, “How’s Hanzo?”

“He’s in Japan, and I’m here, so I think that answers that.”

“Do you still talk?”

Jesse’s expression shuttered with regret and his eyes fell down to his hat. Abashed, he shyly withdrew a slip of paper from the inside band, showing it to Jack before slipping it back into safety. “He gave me some numbers n’stuff, but I don’t have a laptop or, y’know, _interent_.” The toothpick flicked with irritation. ”Probably couldn’t pay the long distance charges to call him, but I’m tryin’ to save up.”

“By not buying cigarettes?”

“Yeah,” Jesse donned the hat. “Been doin’ stuff like that.”

* * *

While Gabriel had been state side, calls had been frequent through the majority of Jack’s senior year, but once Gabriel was eligible to be sent overseas, the calls became sparse and, when Jack enlisted, they became near non-existent because of their conflicting schedules in different timezones.

Their relationship boiled down to infrequent emails.

Two years into service, while being posted in Germany, Jack received the dreaded ‘Dear John’ letter.

Their futures were headed in opposite directions. Jack, having switched from being an enlisted soldier to an NCO, aimed to make a career in the military while Gabriel talked about attending college. The long distance aspect of their relationship was the biggest point of contention. It hurt not being able to touch each other. The last time they’d seen each other had been in the few hours of down time in between catching flights to their separate destinations. Extremely jet-lagged, they’d fallen asleep while leaning against each other in the cargo hold of a plane, only to wake a meager hour before they had to head out.

Somehow, it had made the ache of the distance all that much worse. Like the stressful weight of their long distance relationship had lifted in that single moment, only to crush down with more force once they parted.

It wasn’t exactly a break up. The word Gabriel had used was they needed to put things ‘on hold’ until they knew where the future led, but in the same message he’d also said that it was okay if Jack wanted to ‘see other people’, which could only mean Gabriel wanted the same kind of freedom.

After a night filled with tears and muffled sobs, Jack had let Gabriel go, because it wasn’t fair to keep him when he didn’t know how they’d ever be together again.

Jack didn’t bother dating. Aside from his service getting in the way, and the military’s stigma against his sexuality, Jack’s feelings stubbornly remained with Gabriel. A one night stand went badly. The fly of his pants had been open, the guy had grinned up at him, on his knees and eager, but Jack had suddenly broken out in a sob. It felt wrong. He’d felt like slime, choking with guilt. It wasn’t cheating, but it felt too much like it. Jack had grabbed his stuff, apologized, and fled.

The remorse came in tides, low when he kept himself busy, high when in the idle moments he caught the tune of a familiar song and his memory ricocheted him back to his junior year and the times he had Gabriel riding with him in the truck, or the moments in The Depot, swaying together with Gabriel’s soft rumble as he sang along.

In his weaker moments, Jack put in earbuds and immersed himself in the music, savoring the bittersweet burn in his heart, never really letting go.

* * *

“I don’t understand why the fuck we gotta line up,” Vaughn said as he laced up his boots. “Can’t this shit wait until morning?”

“Just goes to show the new General is a bitch,” Stokes spat while straightening his uniform. “Wanting to bust our balls ‘cause she ain’t got any.”

Jack side-eyed the pair of grousing soldiers, members of his small squad, and cleared his throat to announce his presence. The two soldiers glanced up, then leapt to their feet. They snapped to attention; Vaughn lopsided with only one boot on. It was their designated downtime, so while Jack understood their annoyance about the call to formation, he only allowed so much leniency for bitching. He drew the line when it came to bad mouthing their superiors, especially when it happened to be women.

“Do you want to file a complaint with the Staff Sergeant?” Jack asked, as calm and frigid as winter’s night.

“No, Corporal.” Vaughn said.

“Who is the new Staff Sergeant?” Stokes asked; he was new.

The memo Jack had received about the evening formation had only detailed the information about the new General arriving on base. It’d mentioned that she’d brought her own personnel with her, but no names were mentioned. With General Adawe’s arrival, there was talk about a lot of changes about to be put into place but, on a need to know basis, Jack had yet to hear anything concrete. He was in the dark as much as his squad and he didn’t like it.

Jack eyed the button Stokes had missed and asked, “Are you expecting someone you know, Private Stokes?”

“No, I just—”

“No, what?

“No, _sir_ , I just—”

A strangled sound from the other side of the barracks made Stokes shut his mouth. He shot his squad mate a confused look before staring forward, a petulant pinch to his expression.

“No, _Corporal_ ,” Jack corrected, with any luck, he’d make Sergeant by the end of the year. “Fix your shirt.” To the rest of his squad he said, “Double time. I want everyone out in five and don’t fucking embarrass me.”

A pointed look was again shot at Stoke’s undone button before he stepped toward the door. The barracks buzzed like a hazed anthill. He folded his arms behind his back, watching them get ready before seeing them out the door with only a few corrections in their appearance. None of them were happy about being forced to receive a new CO. Normally those things were delayed until the morning, before drills, but Jack could only assume the new General wanted to make an impression, and it wasn’t meant to be a kind one.

They lined up with the rest of the squads on the training grounds.

General Adawe, a woman, was soft in face but stern with her eyes. The men would make jabs at how she’d earned her stars, but Jack knew better than to underestimate an ambitious woman. As she spoke — a practiced monologue about new opportunities with a specialized unit she was forming — Jack’s gaze flicked over the rest of the new personnel and hinged on the Staff Sergeant.

_It can’t be—_

Jack’s stomach swooped and, for a few seconds, Jack’s jaw dropped open. It _looked_ like Gabriel. It was the same stern features he’d known for years, but hadn’t seen in at least two. The last time they’d video chatted, Gabriel had been sporting the beginnings of a goatee. It had grown in well and was tightly groomed and fit Gabriel’s personality so well that Jack wished he had grown it sooner.

The lettering on his uniform was too far to confirm his last name. Gabriel hadn’t re-enlisted. He’d gone off to college in California. It couldn’t be him. Yet Jack found his gaze trailing down the man, noting the familiar spread of neck and shoulders. If it was Gabriel, he’d bulked up since the last time Jack had the pleasure of seeing him in person. He looked good.

Realizing his lapse in decorum, Jack snapped his mouth shut and pinned his eyes forward. He tuned back into General Adawe’s speech just in time to catch “— Staff Sergeant Reyes —” clear as a bell.

Jack attempted to wipe his sweating palms against the back of his shirt without breaking formation. His heart bruised itself against his ribs while he relied on his conditioning to get through the rest of the speech. Yes, ma’am. No, ma’am. Holy fuck it was Gabriel. They were dismissed and Jack hesitated. Men passed him by but he couldn’t convince his knees to bend.

“Corporal Morrison,” General Adawe said and his head whipped around to her. “I’d like a word.”

“Yes, General Adawe.”

Jack purposely did not glance in Gabriel’s direction. He quickened over to General Adawe, stood at attention and saluted her as the others passed by. She waited until they were alone before motioning him to relax. Her eyes raked his face and posture.

“I’ve heard good things about you, Corporal,” she said.

Some of the top brass had taken an interest in him, marking him as fit to recourse on the path of NCO. They saw leadership in him, so no doubt she’d heard _something_ about him upon transferring to the base.

“Make sure this continues,” she added.

“Yes, General.”

“You’ll give your daily reports to my Sergeant, Gabriel Reyes.”

The mere sound of the name sent Jack’s stomach back flipping and his eyes shifted every so slightly in Gabriel’s direction. “Yes, General.”

She didn’t dismiss him, but as she walked off, Gabriel filled her vacated spot. Jack struggled to keep his eyes forward and not sweep over everything that was his — his _ex_. Gabriel was giving him a slow look over and insecurity shot through Jack’s chest. He no longer resembled the lean seventeen year old he’d once been. What if Gabriel didn’t like—

They weren’t together anymore. It hardly mattered.

“I will receive your reports in the evening, after dinner.”

Jack arched a brow, unable to help himself. “In person?”

Gabriel mirrored the raised brow.

“ _Yes_ , Sergeant.” Jack clenched his jaw. Of course Gabriel had to be two ranks higher, because he always thrived in a competitive environment.

“I prefer to keep things face to face as much as possible.” Gabriel’s lips ticked upward in the barest hint of a smirk.

A delirious sense of amusement bubbled up in response to the absurdity of the situation. A grin stretched across Jack’s face before he could quell the reaction. He schooled his expression into neutrality, but Gabriel had already caught the smile. He leaned into Jack’s personal space with a low growl, “Do you think this is funny, Corporal Morrison?”

Even after years of being apart, the wolf-like rumble of Gabriel’s snarl thrilled Jack in ways he still didn’t understand. A wave of goosebumps spread across his shoulders and his breath drew in a little quicker. Jack straightened his posture, clasping hard at his wrists to keep steady. “ _Muy Cómico_ , Sergeant.”

Gabriel’s nose nearly brushed Jack’s face as he shifted forward, staring hard at the side of Jack’s face. Stern, furious, but his voice a low, playful rumble. “That sounds like back talk, Corporal.”

The smell of Gabriel’s aftershave touched at Jack’s nose. He drew in a slow breath, savoring it. Slowly, as to give Gabriel ample time to draw back, Jack turned his head toward him. His cheek brushed against Gabriel’s with a soft rasp, the contact as electric as it had been years ago. Jack’s gaze dipped, briefly, to Gabriel’s lips as he asked, “Am I to be disciplined, Sergeant?”

“I haven’t decided.”

Gabriel leaned back and Jack met his eyes. The setting sun caught in them, highlighting the underlying gold hue and the slivers of green. Jack’s heart swelled, blooming with petals of affection he’d thought had withered and been left behind with the naivety of his youth.

“I thought you were going to college,” Jack whispered.

“I was.” Gabriel rolled his shoulders in a nonchalant shrug. “General Adawe wanted me to stay on.”

Jack arched a questioning brow, but Gabriel let the pause elongate, torquing up the tension while Jack could do little but continue standing in a parade rest, struggling to keep his breathing even. His heart knocked against his ribs like a jealous ex-lover pounding a fist against the front door, demanding answers.

“I told her I would.” Gabriel added, his face a neutral mask while his eyes glittered with a cleverness Jack had sorely missed. “On a few conditions.”

The idea of Gabriel devising a way for them to be together flitted through Jack’s thoughts. Hope flared in his chest, so bright it hurt. Jack’s expression wavered, shuttering between a smile and a wary frown. He’d been burnt so many times when it came to Gabriel. Yet, watching Gabriel’s face soften, offering Jack a glimpse of the truth, of the side of Gabriel no one else knew, Jack was powerless.

“What conditions?” Jack asked, almost afraid to know.

Gabriel’s gaze lowered and his chin tucked in toward his chest. An oddly demure expression. One Jack couldn’t act on, couldn’t capitalize on the teasing it deserved, and it frustrated him beyond reason. Gabriel had moved heaven and earth, had probably sold his soul, all for this. This one moment. Jack’s hands tightened against the small of his back when all he wanted to do was knock off Gabriel’s hat and undo his buttons, to tease him about his penchant for large, romantic gestures.

Those golden eyes lifted as Gabriel said, “It’s good to see you again, Jack.”

Jack’s heart screamed to kiss him, but instead he smiled, falling in love all over again.

“You too, Gabe.”

:::  
_I like that you're broke_  
_Broken like me  
Maybe that makes me a fool_  
:::

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been fun. :)
> 
> Special Thanks to:  
> Beta~ @songshell  
> Spanish help ~ @karasunomajo  
> and fanart ~ @morelthemarcel
> 
> And to all the commenters that brightened my day every week with squeals and - no, wait, it was mostly screaming. Ha! <3
> 
> Follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/zavijahwrites) for news of future fics~


	20. Epilogue

  


  
Art by [@ToyDreamings](https://twitter.com/Toydreamings?s=20)


End file.
